The Willow Among the Flowers
by HOTPOKKIT
Summary: I had been brought to the okiya on the wind. Like everything in my life, I'd seen that opportunity combust in front of me... until a man with rain in his eyes lifted me from the ashes. ByaRen. GinIzu. KyouUki. AU.
1. The Parting Glass

DISCLAIMER- I claim no ownership to Bleach.

This work of fiction is not meant to accurately depict the geisha lifestyle.

* * *

I grew up with the salt of the sea in my hair and sand between my fingers. My parents died almost as soon as I reached my eighth birthday, leaving me with wind and rain as my only companions. I stole, swindled, and lied to survive. I lived in rags, stalking the streets like a stray dog for well over a year, until the early spring brought the blossom of more than the sakura tree.

With experience, my confidence grew. I had identified the house as being occupied by two women. One appeared to be my age, with her elder sister being no more than a decade older. It would be an easy target.

When the women left, going to the market, I presumed, I landed my strike. I was fast, moving with adrenaline-fueled feet and seasoned hands. I found my reward, a small bag of rice and a basket of vegetables and eggs. Perfect. As I examined the fruits of my labors, an unexpected strike to the back of my head brought me to my knees.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she roared. Her older sister hadn't been far behind, jogging to evaluate the situation. The girl turned to her sister, pointing at my pain-stunned body with a thick branch.

"Hisana! I caught him!" The older woman rose a concerned hand to her mouth. "He tried to get away with a week's worth of food! Should I end him?" she asked, raising her weapon.

Hisana had merely took hold of her sister's beating weapon. "It is not our place to punish, Rukia," she scolded lightly, taking the branch and tossing it off to the side. Rukia turned to retaliate. In the confusion, I had scrambled to my feet..

..Only to be stopped after a single step.

"That does not make you free to go," Hisana said with a laugh, taking a handful of my wild red hair. She rolled the strands in her fingers, inspecting the knotted locks.

"Red. You have a lot of fire in you, don't you?" she asked. I didn't respond, choosing instead to stare her down. She'd have to let me go some time.

Instead of freeing me, she knelt down to my level, her yukata tucked delicately underneath her legs. "Answer me only one question. Why did you do this?"

"Why do you think?" I snapped. "'Cuz I'm fuckin' hungry!"

Rukia looked scandalized. Hisana's expression remained unchanged. "Poor thing." She released my hair, but I remained still. "You do not deserve such a life. How would you like to join us for tonight's meal?" she asked. Rukia's jaw dropped.

"That's two questions," I grumbled, attempting to hide the surprise and eagerness in my eyes, and the grumbling in my stomach. She smiled softly, reaching into the basket of food, contents strewn about the sandy soil, and handed me a carrot. She stood as I ravished the vegetable like a dog tears through meat, and motioned for her sister. The two retired into the house, with Rukia looking over her shoulder at me as she closed the door.

Everything in me told me to run. They had left the basket. Only a few eggs had cracked. I could run, and eat well for several days. But something in me nagged at me to stay.

That night, I stood at their door, the basket in hand. I'd hesitated for several minutes, unable to bring myself to knock. Buckets of water in her hands, Rukia made her way up from the back of the house, and dropped them in surprise when she saw me, fearing me to be some criminal.

"Oh, it's just you," she breathed. The spilled water soaked through her slippers, and she stepped carefully out of it. "Look at what you made me do!" She snatched the basket out of my hands. "If you are going to live here, you are going to have to do chores!" she snapped, shoving the buckets one by one into my hands. "And you can start by fetching the water from the well!"

Anger swelled up in my belly. "Who said I wanted to live here?" I roared, stepping close to her. "You stink like fish!" She smacked me. I tackled her to the ground.

Hearing the commotion, Hisana ran out into the yard. "Children!" she scolded. We both paused, guilt in our eyes. We scrambled apart, smoothing our clothing. She laughed as she shook her head. "Rukia. Inside."

Rukia bowed her head and went inside, basket of food in-hand. I didn't look at the woman who had been nothing but kind to me. She said nothing in return, but grabbed my hand and led me inside the house.

"What is your name?" Rukia asked as I, guided by Hisana, knelt across from her at the table.

"Renji," I stated plainly. "Can we eat?"

* * *

Hisana held me as a tenant in her home for two years. I played at Rukia's side for hours. We became inseparable, with Hisana often unable to differentiate between Rukia's pranks and my brand of mischief. I told Rukia everything, from the themes of my bizarre dreams, to the secrets I kept hidden from the world. She was my best friend, the only one with enough sympathy to let me cry, and humor to match mine.

While I had grown tall, with sustained work building my muscles, Hisana had grown small, weak, and frail. When asked, neither Hisana nor Rukia would offer an explanation.

I carried firewood to her one harsh autumn night, and she smiled appreciatively, looking up from the embroidering she busied herself with for only a moment. I turned to leave, but was stopped by the harsh, almost demonic, sound coming from behind me. I had mistaken it for a pack of wolves, stalking behind the house.. until I realized that it wasn't barking, but coughing coming from the delicate woman seated on the floor before me. Blood dripped down her mouth, covering her yukata and ruining the sewing in her lap.

"Hisana," I started, running to her side. I slid on my knees, ignoring the scraping and splintering against the tatami mat. A blood-stained hand cut me off.

"Please, Renji. Do not worry Rukia with this. It will pass," she promised with a smile. "Please, may I change?" Her voice was as sweet as ever, though I detected some panic.

"Yeah," I said softly, backing out of the room to give her privacy.

Winter came, and Hisana was unable to hide her illness any longer. She spent day and night in bed. Rukia and I had taken over the daily chores, with my brute strength and Rukia's keen intellect making us formidable trading partners at the market. In the early stages, we offered the most nutritious, delicious foods to Hisana, which she always accepted with grace. As she grew weaker, she could stomach only rice and the most mild fish we could obtain. My eyes met Rukia's, which were brimming with tears. I took her hand as she excused herself, only to have it ripped from my grasp.

* * *

In hindsight, I couldn't have known that spring morning would be my last waking in a familiar bed. Hisana was strong enough to walk, and she had wanted to go outside to see the new cherry blossoms. I held her arm as Rukia held a parasol above her head.

"I'm so sorry that the blooming of the sakura tree is so short," she said slowly. She raised her hand, fingers brushing a branch. "Renji, Rukia.. I'm so sorry that our time together has been so short."

I stopped in front of a particularly magnificent tree. The wind picked up, raining petals over us.

"Uh-uh. No talk of dyin'," I scorned. She smiled.

"Of course not. You two need to be taken care of," she said, poking my nose. "Just promise me that you'll always be there for each other. No matter what happens."

I blushed as Rukia looked to me. "Don't be stupid," I laughed. "It's no fun botherin' you by myself."

Some visitors from the city had come to Hisana that night, one with strange orange hair and a strange accent. They pushed us aside like vermin. While they conferred with Hisana, Rukia and I crouched behind the thin rice-paper door.

"They are both eleven," she had stated. "Is that too old?"

"Not at all. It's perfect," one had said, his voice calm.

"And.. he said.. he told you that they will have a good life?" The sob was barely contained. I looked at Rukia with alarm in my eyes. She paid me no mind.

"The best. Luxury awaits them." I saw only shadows cast on the door as Hisana put her head in her hands, and nodded vigorously.

"Do it quickly. For me."

Without any warning, the door snapped open. One of the men grabbed my arm and tugged, leading me to the entrance. The other man put his hand on Rukia's back, pushing her to my side. The two of us looked back, realization and unadulterated panic in our eyes as we saw Hisana sitting up in bed with tears running down her face.

"Let me go!" I roared, fighting against the man holding me, only to have his arms tighten around me. Rukia's kicking and screaming was equally fruitless, with the large man picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

"Don't fight," Hisana begged. "I'm so sorry," she said, barely audible. I bit into my captor's shoulder buying myself only a few moments while he recovered.

"You bitch!" I screamed. "You sold us like fucking livestock! Rot in hell!" Rukia's fight paused in shock. Hisana's sobs grew more violent, and guilt racked me as I was slammed against the hard wood of the wall.

* * *

By the time I awoke, the tiny house by the beach was long behind us. Rukia and I were seated beside one another on some huge, quickly moving metal carriage. With a glance out the window, the world passed by in an instant. I was fascinated, and the two men in front of me laughed at my gawking.

"Your first time on a train?" The man who had held me captive addressed me, voice friendly. I refused to answer, the smile sliding off of my face.

"No need to be so grumpy. You were going to hurt yourself," he stated gently. "Look. I get it. I've been doin' this long enough to know how rough it is on you kids."

"And what exactly are you doing?" Rukia demanded. "Where's my sister?" she asked, voice harsh and raw from crying.

"I'm taking you to a pretty little place called the Seireitei Hanamachi," he answered. "Your sister is staying behind." It was a practiced response. Rukia's knees drew up, and she buried her face. I reached out, rubbing her back as soothingly as I could while glaring daggers into that orange-haired bastard's eyes.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the train ride, though Rukia climbed into my seat to use me as a pillow. I held her while she slept, my gaze transfixed on the scenery. As the train slowed, my eyes darted to the orange haired man and his companion, who were standing and gathering bags. The orange-haired one handed the bags to his larger partner, and offered his hand to me.

"Wake her up. It's almost time to go."

Rukia had almost no time to awaken before her hand was taken by our captor. He held mine tight, as if it would discourage me from running. As we exited the train, he led us quickly to a waiting carriage. We were shoved into the tight space, with Rukia seated on the large man's lap. I was granted my own seat, but only because I had stepped on my captor's feet too many times to be considered an accident.

Oops.

Rukia and I were glued to the windows as we entered the city, charmed by the bright lights and decorations, the sounds of music and celebration. We'd never seen anything like it. Hisana would have loved it.

We came to a stop outside of a beautiful building, the gate and doors open. I gawked at the elaborate windows, the cheery, welcoming curtains on the door. As our captors led us to the door, they jerked us out of the entrance. A tall man, brown hair slicked back out of his face, brushed the curtain back with a long hand as he exited. I'd never seen someone dress like that.. his soft brown eyes were lined heavily in black. His black hakama were hidden under a long, impeccably white coat, trailing the ground behind him. His geta clacked on the cobblestones, barely masking the sound of a flint being struck on his back. As he passed, he looked down his nose at us, pushing his square glasses up with his index finger.

"Shinsou, you're slacking," he warned. Another man bent over behind him, lifting the tail of the brunette's coat off of the dirty ground. This one's hair was silver, falling evenly around his head. His face was painted white, with sharp red and black lines placed on his forehead, cheeks, and nose, reminiscent of a traditional kitsune mask. He was dressed in a black yukata, with a large, furred white obi. The knot fell behind him and wagged like a tail with the movement of his hips.

All of my attention was focused on the pair of attractive men exiting the building and climbing into a rickshaw parked behind the carriage we had ridden. I didn't notice when another man came to greet us until the orange-haired man shoved me in front of him.

"These are the kids from Rukongai," he stated.

I was convinced that this was a dream. This man stood before us, eyes and pale hair obscured by a wide-brimmed green and white striped hat. His clothes were dark green, covered by a knee-length black haori, the edge of which was decorated with white diamonds. His hakama only reached his mid-calf, even in the mild weather of early spring. He stood with the support of a cane, even though he didn't appear to be old enough to use it. A closed fan rested in his other hand.

"A boy and a girl," the strange man noted, speech relaxed. The fan snapped open and covered his mouth. "Ichigo. You know I have room only for one." My heart raced.

He circled us once. He spent maybe ten seconds looking at each of us before he took my upper arm and jerked me close to him. "I'll take this one. See if Yoruichi wants her."

It was automatic. I fought. I fought like hell, clawing at this strange bastard's arm, kicking his shins. "Rukia!" I screamed. She cried, reaching her hands out as the large man picked her up again, swiftly carrying her off to the carriage.

"Renji!" Her voice cracked as she cried out for me. I kicked harder, screamed louder, and threw punches. The strange man fell to his knees, bringing me down with him.

"Shh. Easy, baby. Easy," he whispered into my ear. I quickly realized that it would be futile to fight with his weight on me, and I watched, powerless, as my best friend, my only family, was carried away.

Once he was sure that I was done fighting, he rose to his feet and dusted his clothing off. "Well. Now that that's over," he said with a smile, taking my hand. He led me inside, and I would have gawked at my surroundings if I hadn't been blinded by rage.

"What did you do with Rukia?" I demanded. He seemed to pay me no mind.

"Welcome to the Tsuki no Ki Okiya," he purred, opening a closet. He pulled out a simple green robe and a pair of house slippers. "I'm your master, Kisuke Urahara," he stated jovially. As he tossed me the clothing, I threw them back at him.

"Fuck you, and answer my question. Where did that bastard take Rukia?" I asked. Still, no response.

"You're a unique one. Lots of fire. I see that in your hair and personality." He reached out, stroking my hair away from my face. I slapped him. He laughed.

"You're lucky I'm taking you in as a favor. I don't even really have room for you. You'll sleep with Izuru and Momo. They're your age. You'll make friends." He was teasing me. That bastard had the goddamned nerve to tease me?!

Two children my age peeked out from behind a door, waiting for an invitation. Urahara nodded, and the two rushed out, leading me quickly into another room. The door opened briefly to drop my clothing on the tatami mat. As I started to yell, they flopped on top of me.

"Shhh!" the girl hissed.

"Mr. Urahara doesn't use that cane to walk with! If you upset him, he'll hit you!" the boy whispered into my ear. As my flailing calmed, they took their hands away from my mouth and sat back. I sat up slowly, brushing my hair away from my face.

"My name is Momo," the girl said kindly. She was pretty, I had to admit, with wide, pleasant eyes and black hair tied back into a bun. The bun was covered by some kind of blue fabric, ribbons hanging loose and brushing against the back of her neck.

"I'm Izuru," the boy said, voice quiet. He was an anxious looking kid, blue eyes drooping and pale hair falling harshly into his face.

"Renji," I responded. "What is this place?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Izuru stood, grabbing the clothes Mr. Urahara had laid out for me. He dropped them beside me.

"It's an okiya. Where Geisha live."

"Geisha?" My eyebrow raised. Momo and Izuru looked at each other.

"You know. Fancy clothes and makeup?" Izuru asked. I blinked.

"Like those weird guys who were leavin' earlier?" I asked. Momo smiled.

"Yeah! Like Aizen-Taichou and Ichimaru-Fukutaichou," Momo cried, clapping her hands together. I didn't even try to understand. I just nodded.

Izuru seemed to notice my confusion. "They entertain people. They get paid a lot, too. Aizen-Taichou ugets the title 'Taichou' because he's experienced. Ichimaru-Fukutaichou gets the title 'Fukutaichou' because he's still in training. Aizen-Taichou is training Ichimaru-Fukutaichou," he said, proud of his explanation. I wasn't going to lie- I'd stopped paying attention as soon as he started talking.

"So we're here to do what? Be fuckin' slaves?" Momo hushed my profanity.

"No, silly! We're here to work hard. If we work hard enough, and Mr. Urahara thinks we're worthy, we get to become geisha, like Aizen-Taichou!" Her smile was bright, just like Hisana's. Izuru pointed at the clothes.

"Get changed. We have a lot to get done." I crossed my arms.

"I like what I'm wearing."

"You can't just wear whatever you want!" Momo cried. "You have to identify as part of this okiya!"

I huffed. "I don't want to become a gei-whatever. I just want to go home."

"If you were brought here, it means your family doesn't want you anymore. Now come here!" Izuru grabbed at my obi, and untied my clothing. I fought with him, but he proved to be faster than me. I made it difficult for him as he dressed me, but paid for it in how tight he tied my obi. I gasped for breath and loosened the knot.

"Dammit, you're persistent." The full weight of Izuru's words weighed heavily on me. "...It really means that they don't want me?" I asked quietly. Izuru nodded.

"My parents are dead. The orphanage I was living in sold me to Mr. Urahara. Momo never gets letters from her dad." He reached his hand out to pet my shoulder.

"It's okay, though. We're really good friends now, and everyone here is really nice," Momo said with a smile. "Ichimaru-Fukutaichou is a little strange, though.." she trailed off.

"He is not!" Izuru defended. As they began to bicker, I felt something crush my chest. I brought my knees to my chin and hid my head in my hakama.. and I started to cry.

Izuru and Momo paused.

"It's OK," Momo said gently, rubbing my back. "I cried too. And so did Izuru."

"Only for a little while," Izuru defended, but took my hand anyway. "Are you hungry? Mr. Urahara bought us taiyaki for dinner. There are a few left. I can go get you one," he offered.

"What's taiyaki?" I asked, wiping my eyes and nose. Izuru smiled and stood, running out of the room. He returned moments later, holding a bowl of rice, a glass of milk, and a fish-shaped pastry. He placed the food before me.

"Hurry up. It's rude to eat in the bedroom," Momo said. I wasn't listening to her. I hadn't eaten at all since the morning I'd left Hisana's. I was starving. I devoured almost half of the rice before gulping down some milk and taking a small bite of the fish-shaped pancake that Izuru had presented me with.

My eyes widened.

Was this heaven?

I took in a mouthful, and looked at Izuru. He smiled.

"They're good, right?"

"Good? This is the best thing I've eaten! Ever!" Not that my diet had been full of variety. The taiyaki was gone well before I would have liked, so I occupied myself with the rice and milk.

"Y'know, I came here with my best friend," I muttered. "I dunno where she is." Momo and Izuru looked at one another.

"She could be at another okiya?" Momo suggested. "Mr. Urahara has a lot of friends. Maybe she's there?" It was clear that she was just trying to put me at ease. At least it was working. Realizing that I wasn't going to be much help, Izuru and Momo rolled out an extra bed for me, right between their's.

I climbed in as soon as they left, but that didn't mean I got much sleep. My mind was preoccupied. Thoughts of new friends.. thoughts of old.. I had to find Rukia, even if it was just long enough to make sure that she was alright.

When the last light turned off, well after Momo and Izuru were asleep, I finally let myself drift off.


	2. Let it Burn

DISCLAIMER- I claim no ownership to Bleach.

This work of fiction is not meant to accurately depict the geisha lifestyle.

* * *

I woke early that morning, roused by the sounds of movement and conversation. Momo and Izuru were already awake, their beds rolled up and stashed in a cabinet. I emerged only after putting my own bed away and tucking my hair back into its usual ponytail. I followed the voices to a dining area, where Urahara sat with the two men from the night before. It was the silver-haired one who noticed me first.. at least, it kind of looked like he was looking at me. How did he see, with eyes squinted like that?

"Oooh, lookie here." His voice was thick with a southern accent. He sounded so.. informal. "We got us a new kiddo. C'mere." He beckoned me close with a finger, gaining the attention of Mr. Urahara and the other man seated at the table.

"He's cute," the silver haired man decided, taking a sip of his tea. "What's his name?"

"Renji," I spat out. He laughed, tapping his fingernail on his glass.

"My, my. What a live wire."

The brunette smirked. "Can't you see, Gin? This boy is practically on fire. Look at that hair." He added more sugar to his tea, not even bothering to look at me. "But he is beautiful nonetheless. Let's hope he keeps those flames in check."

"Always rantin', Aizen-Taichou," Gin drawled out.

Urahara stood, and led me to the door. "Go to the well. Fill the cistern on the roof. Try not to fall off. Izuru will tell you, it isn't very fun." He pat my back and sent me on my way. I found the well with ease- it was in the middle of the courtyard, where Izuru was sweeping the deck.

"Hey, Izuru?" I asked, drawing up the well bucket and transferring the contents to a different one. "When are we allowed out in the city?" I asked, lowering the bucket back into the water. Izuru gave me a suspicious look.

"We never leave. Not unless we are with someone. Mr. Urahara doesn't want us getting lost," he said, tapping the broom on the edge of the deck. "Why?"

"I need to find Rukia," I stated plainly, taking the full well bucket into my hand and lifting the other.

"Unless you know exactly where she went, you will never find her. There's no way," he said, walking over to a door and opening it, waving me on to follow him up the revealed stairs.

"It can't be that hard," I drawled out, climbing the flights of stairs behind him. As we reached a ladder, he went up first, holding his hand out to take one of the buckets.  
"Don't believe me? Look!" As I climbed up behind him, I was greeted by a view of the entire city, with buildings as far as I could see.

"Are all of those okiya?" I asked, feeling dread pool in my stomach. He was right. With that many options.. how would I ever find Rukia? I poured the water into the cistern, my gaze held low.

"Not all of them," he said with a shrug, pointing at a few buildings. "Those are some of the teahouses. That's where Aizen-Taichou and Ichimaru-Fukutaichou are all night," he said, wonder in his voice. I rolled my eyes.

This would just be a minor setback. I'd find Rukia. If my fire burned bright enough, water would be summoned to douse the uncontrollable flames.

* * *

Six weeks had passed in tedium. My days were spent cleaning, learning to cook, playing games with my peers, making sure that we were subtle enough to not bother Mr. Urahara or any of the house's older occupants. My nights were spent continuing chores, sleeping, and, if I was particularly lucky, learning to care for the magnificent geisha, who thrived in the moonlight and shrunk away from the sun.

I quickly learned that Aizen-Taichou was not one for conversation. He spoke, of course, but never with me, always to me. I was a street rat. I was below him. On particularly festive nights, I watched him apply his powder, his lips disappearing into the rest of his skin. I found his eye makeup to be reminiscent of the vipers I had bludgeoned with rocks outside of Hisana's house. I held netting to his face while he brushed a dark, metallic green from temple to temple . Whenever I sat with him, he ignored me, concentrating on the task at hand, as if I wasn't worth acknowledging.

Where Aizen-Taichou was tight-lipped and stoic, Ichimaru-Fukutaichou was affable and laid back. He narrated stream of consciousness as he worked, giving names to the brushes and steps to the process. With him, I learned. He was lazy, often letting me paint the back of his neck with the thick, clay-like white makeup he used as a base to cover his face. At least I wasn't just sitting there like an idiot.

"We're not those pretty ladies you see in Kyoto. We're a little more special. Here, a geisha's makeup is their own, never to be copied," he told me, lining his eyes in red, then black. "There's always gotta be a theme. Some're harder to guess than others," he said, facing me with that ever-present grin. "We're art in motion. Not whores. We entertain with the movement of our legs, not the spreadin' of 'em." I looked at him, confusion in my eyes. He stood, in no more than a dressing gown, and motioned for Ichigo to bring him his kimono, a mass of white and red silk, black obi, and the fur of a fox draped over his shoulders.

"You'll learn soon enough, Ren-chan."

* * *

I was awake well after Momo and Izuru had retired to bed. I wandered through the okiya, broom in-hand, making it look like I was doing something. Really, I just needed time to myself. If I had just hidden myself in the bedroom, I would have kept Momo and Izuru up with my tossing. At least I could get my nervous energy out this way.

I didn't really know what I was thinking about, just that my mind was racing. Rukia. Hisana. The house on the shore. My stomach clenched. Even if I did run, where would I go? How would I know my way home? Stray dogs were stray for a reason. The smell of home wasn't a familiar scent to all of us. Lost in thought, I didn't see the body in front of me until I was nose-first in Mr. Urahara's shirt.

"Sleepwalkin' are ya?" he asked with a laugh, drawl particularly thick as he took a drag from his cigarette. "Hey. I was gonna wake up Izuru, but since you're up, you'll do." I could smell alcohol over the scent of tobacco. "Go get Sosuke and Gin from the teahouse. They've had a long night. They prob'ly need some help if they're not home by now."

Before I had time to protest, he took me by the wrist and led me to the gate. "Don't dawdle!" he sang out, using the wall to steady himself as he disappeared into the house. I sighed, irritation thinning my lips. I knew where the teahouse was, thankfully. It was a short walk, but long enough for me to shake this goddamned feeling of dread looming over me.

Aizen-Taichou and Ichimaru-Fukutaichou were hard to miss. Aizen-Taichou's hair had come loose from the stiff gel he had applied at the beginning of the night, and fell in stringy strands around his eyes. His kimono, white with a dark green obi and black flowers along the edge, rode up to reveal his calf. He was bowing to say farewell to who I presumed to be a client. Though he was strong and graceful, it was clear to me that he was barely keeping it together.

It seemed as if Mr. Urahara hadn't been the only one hitting the bottle that night.

"Aizen-Taichou," I greeted with a bow. "Mr. Urahara sent me t-" He cut me off with his palm over my mouth.

"You talk too much," he laughed, turning away from me. "Come, Gin. Let's go see what he's up to," he purred, turning to his Fukutaichou and stroking his chin. Ichimaru-Fukutaichou rolled out of his caress.

"Nah. Not tonight, Aizen-Taichou. I'm awful drunk." He waved his hand as he turned on his strange wooden shoes and started to stumble down the street. He was headed in the general direction of the okiya. I wasn't worried.

Aizen-Taichou, on the other hand, didn't seem to acknowledge my presence. Fucking typical. He started off in another direction.. until he paused, and looked me in the eye.

"Tha's right," he slurred, stepping a little too close to me for comfort. "She was your friend," he laughed, pinching my nose. I slapped his hand, heavy with the effect of the alcohol, away from me. He shot me a pout.

"Don't be angry, little Renji. You're about to be indebted to me," he purred. "Yes, I remember now. It was her. That reject you rode in with. She was the one following him around like a lost puppy."

My brow tightened. What was that inebriated bastard rambling on about? Who was he? Who was she?

Wait.

Did he mean...?

No, he couldn't have.

"Who?" I asked sharply. "What are you talking about?" I snapped, looking him in the eye. He grinned.

"I can take you to her. Would you like to see her?"

"Do you mean Rukia?" I asked, hope plain in my voice. I didn't care. Not if it meant that I got to see Rukia.

He rose his chin in an affirmative. "I guess that's what he called her. Little innocent sister is too polite to be heard from a distance," he ranted. The flushing of his cheeks was visible under the layer of powder he wore. It almost distracted me from the gratuitous amounts of crazy spilling from his mouth.

"Then stop talking and take me to her!" Thankfully, Aizen-Taichou's alcohol-hazed mind didn't process my impudence. We walked in silence, with him leaning against the occasional wall or taking a handful of my hair to steady himself. If he hadn't been leading me to Rukia, I would have dumped his sorry ass on the street and sent Momo to carry him home. For some reason, she was head-over-heels for him. She should have been his keeper, not me.

His hands were placed roughly on my shoulders, stopping me and jerking me in front of a house. I had thought the okiya to be beautiful, but this house trumped it. Maybe it was the garden, or the gentle melody of the windchimes against the dull roar of the Hanamachi.. but I was drawn in. Apparently I had been moving too slowly for Aizen's liking, as he pushed me forward, urging me up the flight of stairs. I should have considered myself warned when he walked away, not even bothering to wait until I was through.

Fuck him. I didn't care.

I stood outside the gate, and rang the bell hanging from the railing. Shadows danced on the rice paper door behind the heavy, locked gate. My heart beat against the wall of my chest as the delicate door was opened. The figure sauntered closer, and deftly opened the gate just enough for the two of us to meet eye-to-eye.

The world around me slowed. Until then, I had not seen beauty. Hisana had been pretty. Rukia had been cute. But this creature in front of me could convince the sakura tree to bloom year-round. His hair shone and flowed like silk, long and loose down his shoulders and back, bangs framing and softening his delicate face. He looked down at me through thick lashes, apathetic grey eyes drenching my fire like a rainstorm. One long leg was positioned closer to me than the other, the loose silk of his dressing robe parting to reveal his calf and a glimpse of thigh. A dainty hand wrapped around the bars of the gate, fingers tightening in anticipation.

Realizing that I was staring, I shook myself out of my trance. "Where is Rukia?" I asked, tone harsh. His chin tilted up.

"She is safe and being taken care of. That is all you need to know." God, that voice. I had heard music that was more offensive to the ear.

I wasn't there to be entranced by the timbre of his voice. Before I had the chance to respond, he shut the gate in my face. I grabbed onto the bars and shook, demanding that he open the damn gate and just let me see Rukia.

"She's my only family!" I screamed out at him, but my cries fell on unsympathetic ears. He turned to face me as he slid the shouji shut with a soft click.

Rage filled my body. I shook. He knew where Rukia was.. he just wasn't going to tell me. I glanced downward. At the base of the stairs laid a small garden, with trees growing among pebbles and rocks. I jogged down the staircase, and lifted a stone in one hand. Without any regard to size or weight, I launched it at one of that pretentious angel's windows. I only realized the weight of the rock after I had released, and the shattering of glass seemed to still the slowing late-night bustle of the Hanamachi.

And I was alone.

* * *

After that night, the next thing I remembered was the snapping of Mr. Urahara's cane as he struck my bare back. Once. Twice. Three times, until I bled. I was bent over Ichimaru-Fukutaichou's knee, with Aizen-Taichou standing behind myself and Mr. Urahara. I buried my screams and sobs in Ichimaru-Fukutaichou's hakama, my fists clenching at the same material. His hands, cool and pale, held my hair away from my back so that Mr. Urahara's strikes rang true.

Mr. Urahara backed away from me, panting with exertion. He lowered the cane to his side and looked at Aizen, who had stepped up closer to him.

"He's costing you money," he whispered, artificial concern in his voice. "Would it be wise to send him to school with the others?"

Mr. Urahara turned to head back inside the okiya. "Of course. He needs it more than the others. How else will he repay his debt? Besides, it seems to me like this little spitfire needs to learn some manners." I heard the clacking of his geta grow faint as he walked back inside, shadowed by Aizen.

Once the click of the shouji confirmed that we were alone, Ichimaru-Fukutaichou leaned in close to me.

"Stop pissin' off Aizen," he hissed. I wiped my eyes and tried to regain control over my breath. The hand running through my hair did little to sooth me. "I ain't stupid. Neither is Aizen, and Urahara lets 'im get away with everythin' 'cuz he brings in cash by the armful," he said, lifting his knee to prompt me to stand. I would have really preferred to just lie there. He helped me re-dress, and I hissed as he put a hand on my back, trying to stem some of the bleeding.

"Go get changed. And don't go wanderin' out late tonight. Ya got an early start," he sang.

* * *

I woke to the feeling of Izuru and Momo shaking my shoulders as vigorously as they could. Luckily for them, they were able to evade the punches I threw out as I was shocked from a very pleasant dream, featuring what I think were supposed to be dancing skewers of taiyaki. I sat up in my bed, glaring daggers at my peers. The sun was barely up. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and focused on Izuru's face, his eyebrows drawn up in worry.

"What'daya want?" I grumbled. Momo pulled my blankets away.

"Get up! Get dressed! We're going to be late!" she cried, moving behind me to fix my ponytail. Izuru clawed at my clothing, a dark blue yukata lying beside him. I looked at them- they were dressed in the same one.

"Hey! I can do it myself," I scolded, standing and stripping myself of my sleeping clothes. I threw on the yukata, and Izuru tied my obi.

"What are we late for?" I asked as we walked as quickly as the yukata would allow, slipping on my geta as we reached the door.

"School!" Izuru responded joyfully. "A new session has started!" My brows scrunched in confusion as I fought to keep up, the wooden sandals heavy on my feet and yukata tight around my legs. How Izuru and Momo could practically run, I didn't think I'd ever be able to understand.

I spent the day searching faces and the names on the attendance board. I turned over every rock I could, looking for signs of Rukia, or a mere mention of her name. One night, I had heard Mr. Urahara speaking of selling girls and boys who had no potential as geisha to become prostitutes. Though the beautiful man I had met only a few nights past had tried to put me at ease and tell me that Rukia was fine.. I had no reason to trust him. For all I knew, he could have been referring to a different girl named Rukia.

I had nothing.

The lessons we were taught that day were boring. We learned how to dance, how to make tea, how to tune shamisen. It was tedious. Momo and Izuru seemed thrilled, absorbing the information like a flower absorbed sunlight. When the class released for the day, the only thoughts in their mind were reflections of the lessons and eagerness to learn more.

The only thought on my mind was how badly I regretted not eating breakfast.

* * *

After a few short months, I had fallen into my new routine as a student. Though Izuru and Momo still had to wake me, I usually managed to roll out of bed early enough to eat something. The lessons at school became more tolerable as they grew in level, the tedium of the basics falling behind us. After school, we practiced our skills until nightfall, with the resident geisha watching in amusement. Ichimaru thought it was cute. Aizen thought it was pathetic. Not that he bothered me- he could do whatever helped him sleep at night. As soon as the sun set, we got to work on chores. We ate when we could, and slept only when all of our tasks were completed.

We each had subjects that we excelled in. Izuru was quick with his hands. Where Momo and I dropped our fans if we breathed too hard, Izuru mastered the techniques with minimal practice. Momo excelled in the art of conversation. Her voice was well-suited to singing, and she took to humming and singing under her breath as she worked. I figured that I was damn good at keeping a beat. My fingers were already calloused from work, so playing the shamisen wasn't nearly as painful for me as it was for my peers.

"Momo. You're sulking." I tucked my hands into my sleeves as we walked to school. Our pace was leisurely, and that was the way I preferred it.

"No I'm not," she defended weakly.

"Whatever. What happened?" I demanded. Momo was usually always at the head of the pack, but she was lagging behind today, gaze downcast. Izuru tried in vain to cheer her up with a silly face. She stopped, and I knew that I had unleashed some kind of dragon.

"It's nothing, really," she squeaked, beginning to tear up. Izuru glared at me. I threw my hands in the air, trying to rid myself of blame. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve as Izuru put his hand on her shoulder.

As we walked, we couldn't get her to reveal anymore information. That didn't mean we didn't watch her for the rest of the day. I didn't understand. I didn't see anything happen to her that would be upsetting. Sure, she forgot to tune her shamisen, but I'd heard Aizen and Mr. Urahara yell at Ichimaru-Fukutaichou for doing the same.

Then I saw red.

Izuru and I waited for Momo a few yards down the road. Damn, she was slow. Being taller than Izuru, I peeked over the gate to see if I could locate her. And I did. She stood among a crowd of boys. From what I could see, they were trying to get her attention. Her hands were tight around her shamisen. She was trying not to cry. Signaling for Izuru to stay put, I stepped closer.

Then the leader of the group put his hand on her.

I remembered that boy from class. He was an upper-level student, set to start his apprenticeship soon. He always bragged, but I had dismissed him. He was full of shit. Momo had probably looked up to him.

"Come on, sweetie. We just wanna talk," he cooed, stroking her cheek. I smacked his hand away from her.

"Yeah? Why don'cha talk to me instead? I'm all ears," I snapped, pushing Momo back so that I could stand in front of her. The boy crossed his arms and stepped close to me. I had seen puppies more intimidating, but damn, his breath was fierce. I shoved him with both hands to get him off of me. He responded with equal force, knocking me a few steps back. While I had remained standing, Momo had been knocked to the ground, scraping her hands and tearing her yukata. The shamisen fell out of her grasp.

"Momo!" Izuru ran to her, helping her up and taking her away from the group, which seemed to be attracting spectators.

The boy moved to follow her, but I blocked him. No way was he touching her. I'd make sure of that.

"Move," he commanded me. I stood firm. He tried to get past me, but it seemed as if he didn't know who he was up against. By the time he picked his foot up, I was two steps ahead of him.

Frustrated, he threw a punch. He only glanced the side of my face, but by that point, I was done fucking around. I ducked, grabbing the shamisen by the neck, and struck him with it as I rose. It fell to pieces, and he fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding head. I threw the ruined instrument at his chest and turned on my heels.

Izuru and Momo looked horrified.

My steps grew faster as I realized what had just happened.

Fuck.

* * *

"_Again_?!" Mr. Urahara cried. I was seated on the floor of his office as he paced around me. I had expected another beating, but Mr. Urahara seemed calm. That worried me more.

He leaned against the wall, taking his hat off and rubbing his eyes. "You're one hell of a kid, Renji. Broke the window of one of the most desirable geisha in the Hanamachi. No. The most desirable geisha in the entirety of Soul Society. Then, you break a goddamn shamisen over another kid's head. You're makin' it really fucking hard to like you," he said with a sigh.

My eyebrows scrunched in thought. "He was a geisha?" I asked, disbelief in my voice. I shouldn't have been that surprised. That man had been gorgeous.

"Senbonzakura," he affirmed, placing his hat back onto his head. "Fuck. I hate to do this to you, Renji, but you really haven't left me with any other choice." He walked to a dresser and pulled out a set of clothing. I immediately recognized it as the smocks we had worn before we started school, when we were performing labor for the okiya.

My stomach dropped.

"You are now employed here as a servant. No more." I looked down. "You won't go to school. You won't practice. Well, you can if you want, but it'll be in vain. From now on, you are not being considered to become a geisha of this okiya."

He tossed me the clothing. I fisted my hands into it, clenching my jaw. I looked at him to see if I could go.

But he wasn't done with me yet.

"Ichigo brought this." He pulled a package out of his desk drawer. There was a letter, as well as a cloth-bound parcel. He untied the knot holding the cloth together, and handed me the contents. He knelt in front of me as he read the letter. But I knew what it said before he opened his mouth.

"Dear little Renji. It is my deepest regret to inform you that, only a day after you and Rukia left for your new life in Seireitei, Miss Hisana succumbed to her illness. I am certain that she sent you to Mr. Urahara to ensure that you were cared for after her demise, and she could finally rest in peace knowing you were safe."

In my hand was a grave marker bearing Hisana's name, as well as a bare branch from one of the sakura trees she loved so much.

Mr. Urahara folded the note and put it behind him. Unable to restrain myself, I fell forward and sobbed, burying my face in the smock he had condemned me to wear.

I had lost everything.

Hisana. Rukia. Becoming a geisha had been my only opportunity to find Rukia, and I had turned that opportunity to ashes.


	3. Waiting For My Real Life to Begin

Four Years Later

* * *

With little resentment in my heart, I watched my friends grow. Sure, they had been sad to lose a practicing partner, a friend who spoke the jargon and understood their ambition. They recovered quickly. Their world kept turning, the river carrying them into a realm of new opportunities, while I floated on the surface of the still lake. I served them, Aizen, Gin, and Mr. Urahara tirelessly. I had no time to rest, except for the few short hours in the day I was allotted to eat, bathe, and sleep. I called no one by their title. To me, 'Ichimaru-Fukutaichou' was simply 'Gin.' It had irritated them at first, but they seemed to get over it.

Ichimaru-Fukutaichou had stepped out from Aizen-Taichou's hold, and been able to drop the 'Fuku' from his title. He was his own geisha now, and would be responsible for the education of another. Unsurprisingly, he snatched Izuru as soon as he reached the age of fifteen and was considered eligible to begin his apprenticeship. They had always gotten along, and I had overheard Mr. Urahara promise him that 'the boy is yours as soon as he graduates.' Izuru still attended classes with Momo, but had the added advantage of practicing under the guidance of Gin.

While there was no way for me to prove it, I didn't think that Aizen took Momo under his wing out of choice. Their interaction was awkward, though his attempts at being encouraging seemed to work for her. It was probably because, at a barely-detectable level, she was behind Izuru in skill.

* * *

Even though I wasn't an active student, it was impossible for me to avoid gaining some knowledge through observation. I had even been grabbed by Gin and Aizen to act as a mock audience while Momo and Izuru performed, trying to desensitize their proteges to crowds.

Though I had managed to conceal any jealousy that bubbled inside of me, time came where I felt the pot boil over.

"C'mere," Gin motioned. "I need yer opinion." I followed him to his bedchamber, where Izuru sat in only a dressing robe, hair clipped away from his face. A thick layer of white makeup covered his entire face, hiding even his lips and eyebrows. I barely concealed a laugh.

"Izuru. You look pathetic," I teased. Gin knelt in front of him, opening his makeup box.

"Right now he looks like an unfinished doll. Let's see if we can make 'im pretty." After a moment of stillness, Gin lit the end of his charcoal stick with a nearby candle and let it burn for a moment, extinguishing the flame before it turned to ash. With the stick smoking, he pressed it to Izuru's face, and began to draw. His wrist flicked in swift strokes, and it wasn't long before I could see where he was headed. I could see the outline of wings spreading across his closed eyes, accentuating lines painted down the side of his nose. When Gin was done, the edges of Izuru's lips were painted black, while the middle was an eye-catching red. The wings on his eyelids were filled in with black and silver, contrasting with the blue of his eyes.

"How's that?" Gin asked me as he finished, holding up a mirror for Izuru to see.

"He looks like a chicken," I deadpanned. Gin laughed.

"That's the point. Well. I was goin' for swan," he said, soothing Izuru, who looked rather offended, with the stroke of a shoulder.

"I can see it," I reassured Izuru.

He was a chicken.

* * *

Maybe that had been what prompted me to get my tattoos. On the way to the market, pocket lined with my meager salary and money for fish, I had met an artist on the street, who invited me to watch him for a moment. I watched as he left ink in the skin of a paying client, whose eyes were clenched in pain. With the needle he used, it looked like it hurt like hell. But the end result.. the client grinned from ear-to-ear, running fingers delicately over the dragon on his arm.

I reached into my pocket, and dumped my salary onto the table.

"Whatever you wanna do," I told him, and he sat me down in his chair.

Urahara had scolded me that evening. Not only was I late, but I had sharp, symmetrical designs covering my eyebrows and much of my forehead.

"They're atrocious," Aizen stated.

"Kinda nifty though. Looks like it hurt like a bitch." Gin reached out to touch them. I smacked his hand away. It had, but once the adrenaline kicked in, I felt the unbearable urge to go through the process again.

"Just wear a headband in public," Mr. Urahara laughed, waving his fan at me.

* * *

When asked over dinner, Momo told me that Aizen was saving her design for her release ceremony.

"Release ceremony?" I asked, eyebrow raised. She nodded with a smile. Uh oh. Momo was about to gush. I braced myself.

"It's when a student becomes a Fukutaichou," she stated, smile becoming dreamy. "Aizen-Taichou will bind himself to me as my mentor, and he will give me my professional name."

"Professional name?" I asked, still confused. "We just call him Aizen-Taichou."

"That's because you're not a geisha or Fukutaichou," she stated. "To other geisha and his clients, he's not 'Aizen-Taichou.' He's 'Kyouka Suigetsu.' And Ichimaru-Taichou is 'Shinsou.' I can't wait for that day," she sighed, giving me her empty bowl to wash.

* * *

The bell rang, and the entire occupants of the okiya stood on the stairs. Gin opened the door and stepped just inside, closing the shouji behind him. He was in full formal kimono, the kitsune mask painted onto his grinning face. I looked at Momo and Mr. Urahara. Confusion was becoming my natural state, dammit.

"Allow me the honor of introducing my new Fukutaichou," Gin stated, kneeling. He placed his hand on the shouji.

"Raise your head, Wabisuke."

The shouji opened and Izuru stepped inside. His kimono was a vibrant cobalt blue, with images of flowers and birds in flight. It was lined in yellow, with an obi to match. He stood on the most uncomfortable-looking sandals I had ever seen, tall and slanted in the front. He held a nervous smile on his lips as he stepped into the full light. It seemed as if Gin had refined his makeup since the night I saw him freehand on Izuru's face. It was more graceful, a little less cartoonish.

I followed suit as, one by one, we greeted the upcoming Fukutaichou. Mr. Urahara and Aizen greeted him with a light bow, where Momo and I had been expected to fall to his feet. It felt wrong. I had grown up beside Izuru, played beside him, helped him dress. To me, he would always be my equal.

As Gin stood, he motioned for me to open the shouji for them. From what Momo had told me, on the night of the ceremony, the new Fukutaichou was to be introduced to as many geisha as possible. Gin exited first, while Izuru followed slowly. Not only did they look uncomfortable, those damn stilts he wore looked to be difficult to walk in. I counted the steps he could take before he fell.

One. Two. Three. Four. Fiv- oh, almost. Six. Seven. Eight. Ni- and he hit the ground.

I leaned in close to Momo. "Told you he looked like a chicken."

* * *

Only a few short months after Izuru's release ceremony, Momo was able to join the ranks of the Fukutaichou. Aizen introduced her with pride, something I hadn't really expected, but had appreciated nonetheless. Momo deserved a mentor who gave a shit about her. He had given her the name 'Tobiume,' which I thought to be considerably less depressing than 'Wabisuke.'

It wasn't a surprise that Aizen had kept her makeup a secret- it was more elaborate that even Gin's, with swirls and curves reminiscent of the wings of a resting butterfly. She dressed in purple and gold, with one of the most elaborate obi I had seen. Aizen had stitched silk to the sides, fanning out and fluttering as she walked.

"You're beautiful," Mr. Urahara praised, urging her to raise her chin. She smiled appreciatively, and redirected that smile to Aizen.

He smiled back, and I could maybe understand what made him so popular as a geisha.

As I descended the stairs, I realized that I was the only one in the okiya who would be expected to drop to my knees in front of her. While I didn't resent her success, I strongly resented the fact that, while I had been raised her equal, I was now expected to consider her my master. I should have resigned myself to that fate long ago, but there was still a part of me that resisted.

* * *

I hopped to my feet as the bell rang, throwing the scrubbing brush into the bucket and sliding the rag holding my hair back out of my eyes. Visitors weren't uncommon. Mr. Urahara had dozens of business partners in Seireitei. Clients came to talk out hiring one of the geisha for an event, particularly if it was going to be especially large or elaborate.

As I came down the stairs, Mr. Urahara stopped me.

"Clean your hands," he hissed. "Fix your hair. Present yourself, boy." God, who was out there? I moved to take a look, but he stopped me.

"Don't stare! Go! Quickly, don't keep him waiting." I wandered off to the kitchen to clean up, which I found completely unnecessary. Mr. Urahara turned to face Aizen, who sat at the table, practicing calligraphy with Momo. "What does he want?" he asked lowly.

"I'm sure it's something Renji did," he teased, tone light. If I wouldn't have been thrown out into the street, I would have drowned him in the sink I washed my hands in. "I try not to delve into his mind. It's dangerous territory."

"Who is it?" Momo asked. Aizen sighed, reaching out to help her with a brushstroke.

"You'll see soon enough."

I ran out to unlock the gate for the visitor, and slid the shouji open. Mr. Urahara had always instructed me to never look directly at guests.. but with that much commotion, I couldn't help but look up as he slid his sandals off and stepped just inside of the okiya.

My heart stopped.

That face was not easily forgettable. His hair was longer, yes, reaching the small of his back, but those aloof grey eyes had burned themselves into my memory that one night, four years ago. He dressed in a silk yukata, black with an eye-catching sakura motif, a far cry from the simple robe I had seen him in. He presented himself with grace, offering me a polite nod as I closed the shouji behind him. He didn't recognize me, did he? I hoped not. Four years was long enough to forget.

"Welcome," Mr. Urahara greeted jovially, bowing a little more deeply than I usually saw him do. "It's always a pleasure to receive a visit from such an esteemed geisha," he said, holding out his hand to direct him to the living room.

"May we speak in private?" he asked of Mr. Urahara, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course." As they reached the living room, Aizen looked up from his paper, expression calm and even.

"Good afternoon, Senbonzakura."

"It is always a pleasure, Kyouka Suigetsu."

Though short, the conversation was tense enough to make even me feel awkward. Aizen collected the supplies spread out on the table and rose, making eye contact with the visitor as he exited.

"Ah, Hinamori-Fukutaichou!" Mr. Urahara caught her attention as she moved to follow her mentor. "I'm sure that our guest would like to enjoy a cup of tea. Would you care to brew some for us?" he asked politely.

She hesitated. "B-but tha-" She was cut off by the sound of Aizen clearing his throat from the hall, followed by a soft 'excuse me.' She responded with a bow. "I will be prompt," she promised, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Though the shouji had been closed, a sign that the pair was not to be disturbed, I took to scrubbing the floor of the hall just outside. I could hear voices, and with the slowing of my brush, I could make out words.

"_I.. Momo is... bound.._" The speech was muffled. I paused in my chores, crawling to the wall beside the door. Much better.

"_It is not Momo I seek,_" that man- Senbonzakura- replied gently. "_You have another here, one whose potential is unrefined._"

"_You couldn't possibly mean.._" I leaned in closer. Yeah. What did he mean?

"_Are you questioning my perception?_"

"_I wouldn't dare. But Renji.. he's a servant._"

"_I know precisely what he is._" There was a slight pause in conversation. I cursed every second of that pause. I was on hands and knees by the door, my heart beating quickly. There was no way that I'd heard them correctly.

"_He's so much older. He has so much to learn. The time and financial resources required-_"

"_Would be covered by my estate._" Mr. Urahara took his sweet time considering the implications of what was being said. It took all of my power to not simply yell out 'just fucking agree already!' Senbonzakura was my only lead in finding Rukia if she was still in Seireitei. I needed this.

"_Alright. He's yours. But do not forget that he is bound to this okiya. He flies under your wing, but in my forest._"

"_Naturally._" He paused for breath. "_There is no time to lose. I would like to begin his training immediately._" I lunged away from the door, quickly resuming my task. That didn't mean the shit-eating grin stayed off my face.

The shouji opened with a snap, and I paused in my work to bow. Instead of passing by without even noticing me, Senbonzakura lowered himself to my level. A delicate hand reached out to push my elbow into my body. He slid it upward, pushing the back of his knuckles into my chest. I resisted his touch, not understanding what he asked. He held pressure.

"No weight on the hands. Tuck your back in." Picture of Aizen in my head, I pulled myself into a more upright bow, back slanted instead of parallel to the floor.

"Very good," he praised. "Now stand." I looked at him with questioning eyes. "Do not play the fool. I know that you were eavesdropping on our conversation." Shit, he was good. I rose quickly, eliciting a raised brow and upper lip from the geisha in front of me.

"We will work on that," he noted, and turned toward the okiya's entrance. I stepped out with him, sliding on my shoes and following closely. I left my bucket on the floor, brush lying forgotten beside it. I wasn't a servant anymore. But more than that.. I was going to find Rukia. I was sure of it.

But he was going to make me work for it.

We walked wordlessly. I wanted to strike up a conversation to fill the awkward silence, but what would I say to him? So I followed his lead, merely admiring the view.

What? I was a teenaged boy, and I was betting that almost every occupant in the city- no, country- would find him attractive. Gin had defined geisha as 'art on legs,' and that was exactly what Senbonzakura was, even with his face bare, hair loose, dress comparably plain.

I paused outside of the eerily familiar house as he opened the gate, and signaled for one of his servants to open the door. My last visit to his home had ended in disaster and a very, very sore back. He turned as he noticed my lagging, and beckoned me forward. Like a dog, I quickly ascended the stairs and left my sandals by the door.

The house's interior was awe-striking. Art hung on every wall. Light bathed the rooms, filtered by thin, flowing curtains. I was overwhelmed by the scent of sakura, nostalgia hitting me like a kick from a horse. He led me to his bedchamber, and sat me at a lone black lacquered table. It was nice- I had gotten out of the habit of being seated on pillows. We remained silent as a servant poured us tea. Senbonzakura did not look at me as he sugared his.

"You may speak," he invited. Weight dropped off of my shoulders. I had so much to say.. but if could all be summed up in one word.

"Why?" I asked, hands flat on the table. He took a moment to consider his answer, taking a slow sip from his glass.

"I am sure that you have been told over again that you are filled with fire." I had. "It's stifling. When fire burns too brightly, it singes. It burns the lungs. It destroys everything in its path." Alright, I'd never heard that take on it.

His eyes met mine, and held contact. I'd never met someone who freed me from thought with something as simple as a glance.

"But when fire is taken care of, it is a vital component of living. It brings warmth. Health. Love." He broke our gaze. "I aim to contain the fire."

I nodded, taking a long sip of tea. It was strong. Bitter. Just the way I liked it. He regarded me with amusement in his eyes.

"You can bear it plain?" I blinked, looking down at the glass.

"It's good," I said simply, taking another sip. He chuckled behind his own glass, a rich, warm sound.

"Perhaps I underestimated your strength."

* * *

The others had been thrilled to learn of my continued training. By others, I meant Izuru and Momo. Gin didn't care, and I'm sure the news of me being taken in by his rival pissed Aizen off to no end. When Mr. Urahara announced my internship, Momo threw her arms around me.

"I'm so happy for you! We can practice together agai-" She was cut off as Aizen grabbed her by the arm. She unwound herself from around my neck.

"Now, Hinamori-Fukutaichou. Is that how you act among all of your rivals?" he asked, loading his tone with disappointment. She shook her head, lowering it as she moved to stand beside her mentor.

Gin laughed, running fingers up Izuru's spine. I could see him barely contain a shudder. "My Izuru can help ya," he offered, turning toward Aizen just slightly. "You'll need it."

* * *

The next two weeks would be filled with the most bromidic lectures I'd heard in my life. I went to Senbonzakura's home every morning, and didn't leave until the sky glowed orange. We weren't learning music. We weren't working on any kind of intricate dances.

Manners. From sun-up to sun-down, I had to listen to Senbonzakura drone on about etiquette. He physically forced me into proper posture. He slapped my hands with the thin wood of his fan if I moved too quickly, or if I made an incorrect movement.

Alright.

I got the message.

Don't be a dick.

I understood the need for discipline. I was disciplined! Just not in the way that the prim and proper Senbonzakura was accustomed to. I had considerably less of a stick up my ass than he did.

I took my time, wandering to his house more than rushing to get started. He stood outside the gate, patiently waiting for me. Shit, was I that late? I jogged to catch up.

"Sorry I'm late, Sen-"

"We are beyond that point. You may call me Kuchiki-Taichou, if you prefer." I blinked. "Your tardiness is of no consequence. Come with me. We are taking our lessons elsewhere for the day."

I couldn't help it. I groaned. I wasn't going to have to sit through some boring ceremony, practicing the strict manners that had been infiltrating my mind for the last half month of my training.

"You will enjoy this lesson," he promised as we began to walk. "There is no way that I can teach you everything that you need to know. Not in the time we have allowed." What was he saying? That I was slow?

"I'm doing everything you tell me to," I said defensively. He held a hand up.

"That wasn't what I said. It is unwise for me to teach you everything myself. It would bring you to such a high disadvantage." But Senbonzakura was considered one of the best geisha in the Hanamachi. Eyebrows drawn together, I waited for him to make his point.

"If I give you only my tricks, you will be the trunk of the tree, not the branch. You will not bend with the wind, you will break in it. You need the influence of others to develop your own style. While Kyouka Suigetsu and his dear Tobiume are less than inclined to tutor you, I have strong connections. The geisha you are about to meet see you as a brother, not a rival."

Kuchiki-Taichou had friends?

The okiya we stood in front of was far more lavish than the one I was accustomed to. He rang the bell for me, and only moments later, we were greeted. A dark-skinned woman, hair colored an interesting shade of purple, bounded out of the okiya with a wild grin on her face.

"And here I was thinkin' that you didn't love us anymore, little Byakuya~," she teased as she opened the gate. "How about a hug?" she asked, arms wide open. My eyes were drawn immediately to her breass.. Hey, if Kuchiki-Taichou didn't want a hug, I'd be more than willing to suffer on his behalf.

Wait, his first name was Byakuya?

"Disgusting as always, Ms. Shihouin." She waved him off. Damn, I liked this woman, Not only was she hot, but had balls big enough to talk down the mighty Senbonzakura.. and have him allow it.

"Is Sogyou no Kotowari home?" he asked, thinly veiling the annoyance in his voice.

"Oh, him? Yeah. He's with Yumichika and Toshirou in the practice room. You kept us waiting," she scolded.

"And Sode no Shirayuki?" Kuchiki-Taichou looked at the woman expectantly.

"School. You know how the upper level classes can be," she waved off. "Go. Yumichika's probably getting pissy."

"Ruri'iro Kujaku does not frighten me."

"That's because you haven't seen him in the morning," she muttered.

As we wandered through the halls, I realized that Byakuya knew his way around. For some reason, I had simply assumed that he had started out independently.. but maybe this had been his okiya? He seemed to know each bend in the hall, the location of each hidden room. He opened a shouji and gestured for me. I stepped inside, and wasn't exactly sure what I had walked in on.

Three men occupied the room, seated around a small table. The room itself was enormous, with the back wall completely covered in mirrors, reminiscent of one of the practice rooms at school. One of the men stood as soon as we entered the room and approached us, bowing and greeting Byakuya with a smile. He was tall and slender, and moved with practiced grace. His gaze was soft-mannered, his wide brown eyes full of kindness, and marked by the subtle presence of crows feet creeping toward his temples. White hair fell long and loose toward the middle of his back. Even in private, his dress was formal, with a white haori resting over his navy blue shitage and hakama.

"I was hoping that you would pay us a visit," he said warmly. Byakuya responded with a deep bow of his own. His attention turned to me, and he smiled widely. "Is this who you spoke so highly of?" My brow raised and I turned to my Taichou. His expression remained even.

"I would like to introduce my new apprentice, Renji Abarai," Byakuya said, gesturing toward me. Taking the cue, I bowed to them.

"Renji, these are the geisha who will be assisting in your training. They vary from Fukutaichou such as yourself, as well as geisha more experienced than myself. May I present.."

He gestured to the white-haired man standing before us. "Sougyo no Kotowari."

"Ukitake-Taichou, please," the man corrected, bowing to me.

"Hyorinmaru." Another white-haired man stood from his sitting position at the table. His hair was shorter, spiked with bangs falling into his striking, intense blue eyes. His hair wasn't the only thing that was shorter- he rose to my chest, at best. He dressed in a striped white and blue yukata, the hem cut short to add invisible inches to his legs. I could barely contain a smirk. For such a short man, his expression was grumpy, harsh even.

"You may call me Hitsugaya-Taichou." Though he grumbled, his tone was of a high quality.

"Ruri'iro Kujaku." A lavish looking man stood before me, purple eyes bearing down into my soul, lips parted. The majority of his hair was cropped at chin level, with the exception of a braided segment which fell to his collarbone. His pink and purple flowered kimono fell low on his shoulders, revealing much of a pale neck. He had tied the garment loosely, and I could clearly see flashes of thigh as he approached.

"I am the Fukutaichou serving under Hyorinmaru. Ayasegawa-Fukutaichou, please."

"There are many skills that a geisha must master," Byakuya explained to me as the entire group moved to sit at the table. "I have conferred with everyone in this room, and we will all focus on different skill sets. Much of my job will be to ensure that you understand the commonalities, the links between each art that make a geisha different from a common artist."

I took this to mean that I would not be overwhelmed by trying to learn every skill from every geisha. I appreciated the fact that I would no longer be stuck listening to Byakuya speak on the same subject for hours. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but in order to avoid any.. unexpected embarrassment.. I had to focus on the subject matter.

"Hyourinmaru has agreed to teach you music, including vocal music. Ruri'iro Kujaku has shown an aptitude for dance, and he will be instructing you in that subject. Being the most experienced geisha, as well as my Taichou, Sougyo no Kotowari will tutor you in your weakest subject." I frowned. "He will guide you in your practice of the art of conversation, storytelling, and flirtation."

I barely contained a groan. It was true. I was better on my feet than with my words. Byakuya went on to explain that I would begin every morning under the tutelage of my many volunteer instructors. After I had spent two hours with them, I would spend an additional two hours in his company, or until he was required to leave to entertain a client.

"When do I start shadowing you?" I asked. From what Izuru had divulged, he'd been given the opportunity to meet many different geisha, as well as their apprentices, while merely sitting in the background while Gin worked.

His answer took consideration.

"Soon."


	4. Fidelity

I woke with the sun, having nobody to rely on. Hell, I didn't feel like a part of Mr. Urahara's okiya anymore. My time was spent at Byakuya's residence, or in the company of my tutors. I joined my childhood friends only for the nightly meal and to sleep between Momo and Izuru.

Word spread quickly of my expert instruction. Aizen regarded me as a traitor. He refused to speak to me, or, if he did, it was in short segments. He teased. Unexpectedly, Gin couldn't have cared less. He seemed to thrive on competition, not fear it. Upon the rare occasion that the entire okiya would be gathered together, he encouraged Izuru to spend time with me. We occasionally obliged, comparing the teaching styles of our respective mentors.

I unrolled my bed, flopping down dramatically. "By- Senbonzakura's a damn slavedriver," I grumbled. "I spent four fucking hours working on that dance, but no. It wasn't fucking good enough, so I had to practice for two more. I can't feel my knees anymore," I moaned.

"Shinsou is a good teacher," he told me hesitantly, pulling his blankets up. "He is gentle. He always gives me opportunities to succeed, and I always learn from my mistakes."

"But?" With Izuru, there was always a 'but.' He hid his face in his pillow.

"I think I'm attracted to him." My eyes rolled. Welcome to my world.

"Tell me something I don't already know," I teased with a laugh.

Izuru sat up. "You can tell?! Augh, if you can tell, then surely-"

"Relax," I cut him off. "He's supposed to be attractive. It's kind of his job. Come cry to me when you're surrounded by geisha. Very successful geisha," I stressed. He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes.

"Let's not talk about this anymore."

"Don't gotta tell me."

* * *

Ukitake-Taichou woke first that day. That was often the case. He loved to watch the sunrise. On my first day of lessons, I had mistaken this passion for overeagerness. As I became more familiar with him, as well as the intricacies of the geisha lifestyle, I thought it to be madness.

"We thrive in the night," he had explained, picking a dew-covered wildflower and twirling it in his fingers. "Sometimes we overlook the beauty of the dawn."

It had been too damn early for me to understand him.

Over time, I grew to enjoy my time with Ukitake-Taichou. He was soft-spoken and even-tempered. On the whole, I didn't consider our sessions to be lessons. They were conversations, thought-provoking and mostly enjoyable. I learned to pick up on his subtle mannerisms. For example, he brushed his sleeve back to reveal the inside of his wrist as he poured my tea, and cocked his head to the side. He smiled as he noticed my adoption of the technique, but made no comment.

"Tell me, Renji. Have you heard of a _danna_?" he asked me as we wandered aimlessly through the garden. It was one of his favourite locations to hold class, as he believed that the movement would take my focus away from the subject matter so that I wouldn't try too hard.

"No. But you're going to tell me," I teased gently. I was developing a mask, able to put it on when I was with him or Kuchiki-Taichou. He laughed, politely shielding his lips.

"It is common knowledge that geisha cannot be married. Should we fall in love with a man or woman and seek to marry them, we are required to retire." He brushed his fingers against a flower. "There is, however, a loophole. If a geisha is very lucky, he or she will attract a_ danna_. _Danna_ are special patrons who take on the financial burden of the geisha. They take care of their geisha. In return, that geisha offers him or her companionship, as well as priority in booking arrangements. That patron can be another geisha, but that type of relationship is a little less common."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. I had no interest in falling in love, especially with a client.

"It is knowledge that every geisha must hold," he said gently. "Two geisha of this okiya have been lucky enough to attract a _danna_- Ruri'iro Kujaku, as well as myself."

Really? That fruity thing? I laughed to myself, shaking my head. I wasn't sure I wanted to meet the man who would choose such a boastful creature to sponsor. We paused for a moment, taking a seat on a bench next to a small lake.

"Do you.. you know..?"

Ukitake smiled knowingly. "Are you asking if I have sex with him?"

"..Yeah."

"The simple answer is yes. However, you must understand that it is not prostitution," he stressed. "He comes to me without expectation, and I come to him without expecting payment, nor would I accept it should he offer. He does enough for me." By the glowing smile on his face, I could tell that he held great affection for that man.

"He is a high government official. I'm sure that you will meet him very soon- I entertain him often. Like many clients you will entertain, he is trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. In the night, I aide him in relieving the stress of his everyday life. On most occasions, he is satisfied with night-long conversation over tea. Other nights, I can tell that he seeks my affection. In that situation, I will take him to bed."

My upper lip rose. I was gaining too much knowledge on a subject I wanted no part of. However, to me, it was the auditory equivalent of a train wreck. I was fascinated.

"How can you tell he wants to..?"

He snapped open the fan tucked in his obi and leaned in close. "Well, he isn't subtle. It isn't hard to miss, even with his legs crossed." I felt my cheeks heat up. "I have entertained my _danna_ for fifteen years. With him, I am not Sougyo No Kotowari, but Jushiro Ukitake. He drops his defenses around me. It's not difficult to read him." God, fifteen years? How old was he? He didn't look too much older than twenty five, but with that information, he had to be past thirty.

"So you're like his wife. Err, husband." I was trying to make sense of it. I didn't think I wanted a_ danna_. It sounded like way too much work for me. He smiled.

"I am half a husband. Never forget that we thrive only in the night."

Damn it, he always had a way to bring shit full-circle.

* * *

As soon as Sougyo no Kotowari released me, I made the reluctant journey to the practice room to meet Ruri'iro Kujaku. The dark-skinned woman, who I had learned was the okiya's owner, sat in the corner of the room, shamisen in her lap. The precious one himself stood against the wall, brushing his hair out of his eyes as I opened the door.

"I'd like to know what the two of you are always talking about. You're always late," he scolded. I rolled my eyes. He talked big, flaunting his feathers at every opportunity. He was utterly harmless.

"Yumichika, you've been awake for five minutes," the woman scolded.

"No, you really don't want to know," I grumbled, picking up a pair of fans from the table. I knew that they were supposed to make me look graceful, but I found that the damn things made me feel like a woman.

In the beginning, my task was simply to match his pace. I had watched different geisha dance, from Kyouka Suigetsu and Shinsou to Senbonzakura, but Ruri'iro Kujaku moved with unmatched speed and grace. Even Izuru, who had still found his strength in dance, wouldn't have been able to keep up. I was able to match about a fourth of his moves, with the other three fourths full of me either waving my arms to pretend I knew what I was doing, sending my fans flying across the room, or managing to step on his feet. Shit, I thought he'd been pissy after I'd been a few minutes late- that was nothing compared to the fury I invoked after 'crushing his toe with my heel.'

Needless to say, I wanted to punch him in the mouth and tell him to move at a human pace. After I caught my breath. At least I understood how he was able to attract the attention of someone who wanted to sponsor him.

"I should have been a prostitute," he moaned dramatically as I launched my fan across the room, hitting an unsuspecting Yoruichi in the eye. "They don't have to be taught to do anything but lie there."

As time passed, however, I found myself able to keep up. We only practiced each dance twice, presumably so that I would not get too frustrated and throw his smug face into the mirrors. I dropped my fans less. I was able to mirror him with higher accuracy. My feet kept up with his. Though he wouldn't outwardly admit it, I was pretty sure that he was proud of me. Or, at least, relieved that I hadn't broken any of his toes.

* * *

I looked forward to my music lessons with Hyorinmaru. After my dance sessions, I was sore. My entire body ached, including my head if Yumichika had been particularly outspoken that day. Music was my better subject, and it was nice to get off of my feet, if only for an hour or two.

Hitsugaya-Taichou came to the practice room, arms full of various instruments. He had a small assortment of drums and flutes, as well as the staple shamisen. Like Yumichika, he preferred to teach by doing. It made sense- they had been bound to each other, and had likely grown up in each other's company. At least he was a lot quieter than Yumichika.

He took one instrument, and I took the other.

Unlike working with Yumichika, I was afraid of annoying Hitsugaya-Taichou. I wasn't afraid of him per say, though he did have a mean glare and witty insults when I hit a sharp or flat on the flute, or if I sang the wrong words. Kuchiki-Taichou knew that I had shown an aptitude for music. If I failed in that regard, he would see me as worthless, and would toss me to the street. I'd go back to scrubbing floors and hanging laundry. After all, there was nothing binding me to him. I hadn't been named. He would have every right to discontinue my training should the mood strike him.

So I worked hard for Hitsugaya-Taichou's approval... but more than that, the approval of Byakuya.

"You're coming along," Hyorinmaru told me one day, watching me tune my shamisen while transitioning from one song to another. "I had trouble with these songs well into my days as a Fukutaichou."

I grinned. Progress was progress.

* * *

By the time Byakuya came to pick me up, I was exhausted. I don't know how much use he actually expected me to be. My mind was liquefied, and my body protested every step. I prayed that he would be merciful.

I was praying to a dead god.

"Give me your geta," he said as I approached the porch, ready to put my shoes on. I blinked. What was he going to do, make me walk through the street barefoot? My feet were tough, but not so tough that they wouldn't bleed when covered in broken glass and sharp stones. Nevertheless, I handed my shoes over. I had to trust him, didn't I?

He presented me with a pair of sandals, the dangerous-looking blocks of wood that even Izuru had fallen right off of. God fucking damnit. I took a peek behind me, and saw Ukitake-Taichou, Hitsugaya-Taichou, and Ayasegawa-Fukutaichou watching me from the doorway

"Don't you all have lives?" I snapped. Ukitake-Taichou shook his head no, a grin on his lips. Yumichika chuckled.

"We wouldn't miss this for the world, dear Renji," he purred out, fanning himself gently. I clenched my jaw. Izuru was a klutz. Momo was a girl. I was better than them. It wasn't going to be that hard. Holding onto the railing, I slipped one on, and then the other.

Byakuya offered a hand. Fuck him. I could do it.

Letting go of my safety handle, I took a shaky step forward. I took one step. Two. I exhaled. See? It wasn't too bad. Confidence growing, I took larger steps, adding length to my stride. Izuru had just been an uncoordinated littl-

I hadn't seen the step there.

If it hadn't been for Byakuya's quick reactions, there was no doubt in my mind that blood would be spilled. He took me in his arms, and held me just long enough to take a breath. A warm, delicate hand remained steady on my upper arm.

"If any geisha tells you that he did not fall over while learning to wear okobo, he is lying through his teeth," he stated. I felt a little better, imagining the magnificent Kyouka Suigetsu and the exquisite Senbonzakura eating dirt.

"It's true," Yumichika affirmed. "I seem to remember hearing the tale of a certain young trainee bowling over an entire crowd," he purred, lolling his head back to look at Ukitake-Taichou, who laughed politely.

"I remember a graceful Fukutaichou, in attempt to show off, try to dance in his okobo. I also remember cleaning his bloodied face for days to follow." Yumichika blushed.

"Hold my hand," Byakuya instructed, offering it to me. I hesitated for a second. I didn't touch him very often. He was a china doll, and I was a bull. I was afraid of breaking him. My calloused hand was rough against his as I gave in. I was surprised by his strength as we began to walk. When I faltered, he was there to hold me steady. He did not coddle me, however, which I was eternally grateful for. Corrections were made quickly, then relaxed into mere support.

I found that, if I concentrated on something, I stumbled less. So I focused on the obvious, fine-boned hand in mine. Where I was roughened from work, he was soft. I brushed my thumb against the inside of his wrist, and was rewarded with a barely-there hitch of breath. So he'd liked that. I stroked in gentle circles, and moved just inches closer to him. Though he smelled of sakura even from a distance, the scent became more intoxicating with additional closeness.

"Renji." His voice snapped me out of my trance. My thumb stilled on his wrist. "We've arrived." I looked up, greeted by the gate outside of Byakuya's house. Oh. That was fast. He did not sever the tie between us until we had ascended the stairs, and those damn demon shoes were off of my feet.

We walked in silence until we reached his bedroom. We weren't going to talk about what had just happened. That was fine. We didn't need to. That didn't mean I didn't want it to happen again, though. I was just glad that I'd been able to relax.. at least a little bit.. before we dove head-first back into lessons.

Byakuya was simultaneously the quietest and loudest teacher I'd had. He spoke very little, and when he did, it was a short, sharp correction. He guided me with his eyes, standing in front of me and encouraging me to keep eye contact with him for as long as I could during my dance. Subtle changes in his gaze encouraged me to soften my movements, or to show passion. He sang while I played the shamisen, his pace remaining steady, allowing me to fix myself should I lose rhythm and play too slowly or jump ahead. He showed a sharp wit as we discussed politics and culture over tea.

We trained late into the night, until I didn't think I'd be able to make it home. As I slipped on my shoes to leave, I felt a hand on my back, the back of Byakuya's knuckles resting between my shoulderblades.

"I am very pleased with the progress you've made, Renji. You are exceeding my expectations."

Okay, that had felt good. It must not have been easy for him to admit, either. He wouldn't look at me.

So I made him. I tilted his chin up and flashed him a smile. I was rewarded with a moment of contact. Able to tell that I was flustering him, I dropped my hand and turned away, giving a casual wave as I walked home.

If I had been standing closer, I might have heard the shaky sigh leave his lips as he fought to recompose himself.

* * *

Despite the nearly debilitating pain racking my body, I had run home in the dark that night, trusting my subconscious to get me there in one piece. I threw my sandals off at the entrance to the okiya, and wasted no time in running to the bedroom I shared with Izuru and Momo. It was still early for them. They would still be out, watching Shinsou and Kyouka Suigetsu at work.

I was alone.

As soon as the shouji was closed, I pulled my hakama down just past my hips. I wrapped my hand around myself with a sigh. I'd been hard since the walk between the okiya and Byakuya's house. I was ready to burst. I threw my head against the shouji as my hand began to move, friction cut by the drops of fluid at the head. I hissed out as my thumb brushed the slit.

In my mind, it wasn't my hand wrapped around me, but the more elegant fingers of my mentor. Eyes clenched shut, I could almost see him kneeling between my legs, hand wrapped delicately around my dick, movements eager. The Senbonzakura in my mind looked up at me, gaze holding as he teased my foreskin. I lost it, thrusting roughly into my hand and tensing as I spilled myself at my feet.

I took a few moments to recover, panting roughly and trying to get my heartbeat under control. As I came down from my high, I opened my eyes.

I was greeted by a horrified gaze, blue eyes wide in the dark.

Izuru.

And there I was, still clenching my spent cock. I turned quickly, pulling a smock out of the cabinet to sleep in. I dressed quickly.

"Hey. Izuru. What're you doin' here?" I asked, unable to look at him.

"I.. Shinsou.. we took the night off.." he stammered.

"Oh." I let my hair down.

"Are you gonna-" he pointed at the floor by my feet.

"Yeah," I snapped, tossing my hakama over the mess I'd made on the tatami and wiped it up with my foot. I made a mental note to wear something different the next day. I pulled out my futon and flopped down on it.

"I u-understand. I mean, I do-"

"Shut up, Izuru."

"OK."

* * *

I hadn't been able to look Izuru in the eye for a week. Shinsou had been the first to notice this fact, and had teased us mercilessly. That damn fox didn't know when to stop digging, did he?

I continued my daily lessons for months. Even in that short amount of time, I'd been able to feel myself growing, as a performer and as a person. I had more patience- I had to, if I was going to avoid kicking Ruri'iro Kujaku in the face. I'd learned how to turn a phrase- I had to, to keep up with discussions between Senbonzakura and Sogyo no Kotowari. If I had been good with music before, I had become great. I had to- Hyourinmaru still scared me.

But he had been right. It had been Senbonzakura who had cleaned up the edges and tied the piece together.

Ukitake-Taichou greeted me outside, as per the norm. He seemed happier today. Excited. He received me with a warm pat on the back as we made our way back to the garden.

"I have news for you," he said jovially as we took a seat at his favourite bench. "My _danna_ has planned a party at the Niji Teahouse tonight." I knew of the place. It was the highest level on the scale. Even Kyouka Suigetsu didn't entertain there often, due to the highly selective tastes of the patrons.

"We will all be in attendance, including my Fukutaichou." I rose a brow. I didn't know that he had a Fukutaichou. He gasped in realization.

"You haven't met Sode no Shirayuki yet, have you? That's right, she always arrives while you are in Ayasegawa-Fukutaichou's company." He smiled. "She is pleasant. You will like her, I promise."

There was one problem with everything he had said. Though I was Byakuya's student, I did not shadow him at parties. On nights he was booked, I returned to Mr. Urahara's, and either caught up on sleep or practiced with Izuru. I was not at the level where I could attend events at Senbonzakura's side. For that, I had to be released.

Oh.

Oh.

My heart started to race. I must have had a look on my face, as Ukitake-Taichou slid his hand over mine.

"This is a joyous moment, Renji. You are growing. It won't be long until you have a following of your own. You are unique," he told me, a smile on his face. "Even male geisha are often bound by the traditional image of grace and beauty. That is not your style. You show the same prowess, with a distinctly masculine edge. Trust me when I say that Senbonzakura aims to enhance your personality, not hide it. You will be popular," he promised.

I looked at my feet and nodded. He pat my hand.

"Come. You must be dressed for the ceremony. You won't be bound to your new Taichou in your hakama," he teased.

* * *

Byakuya waited for me in a dark room, curtains drawn and candles serving as the only light source. The smoke of the incense burning in the corner filled the air. Sandalwood- how did he know my favourite scent? Ukitake-Taichou urged me to sit in front of Byakuya, who had a makeup case open and ready.

He looked exquisite in the dim light. His skin glowed warmly. His hair fell into his eyes, which took on a blue tint in the candlelight. He was still dressed plainly, hair wrapped in pink and white ribbon from the nape of his neck to an inch from the tip. He greeted me with a rare smile.

"I am sure that Ukitake-Taichou has already ruined the surprise," he teased as Ukitake-Taichou turned to leave, a grin on his face. "Tonight, you will be bound to me as my Fukutaichou, and you shall be released into the world."

"I'm ready." I had planned more to say, but that had been all I could express. His chin rose.

"I know."

He spent a good ten minutes simply looking at my face. No, not my face. My tattoos. There was no way he hadn't noticed them before. I always kept them hidden under a headband, but the tips were visible. He just hadn't realized how extensive they were. I had added more on my neck and chest, much to his chagrin.

"You take too much pleasure in challenging me," he teased. Nevertheless, he smoothed the wax base over a spot on my neck and powdered it. He'd wanted to see if I would be able to wear traditional makeup.

Nope. Though faint, the black showed through. I could see his brow tighten as he thought.. and he put away the white powder.

"No matter."

He started at my eyes. He lined them in a thick line of charcoal, blurred up into my brow with a cloth. He lined the charcoal smudge in a sharp red line. I could see where he was going. He was incorporating my tattoos into his design. Where I blazed my way through a closed door, he flowed underneath of it.

He applied a red paint to only my top lip, using his finger instead of a brush to ensure it wasn't too thick and the color too bright. He swept a faint line of red powder along my cheekbones, blended into an orange outline.

"It is not traditional, but nothing about you is traditional," he stated with a smirk. He loosened my hair and brushed it back into a bun, held together by a black ribbon and six ornamental hair sticks. Two were red, with black and gold beads hanging from the tip. The two placed at the bottom of the bun were black, tiny white flowers painted up the length, topped with gold and red flowers. The two in the center were gold, wrapped in a metallic red and black thread at the wide end. He reached in front of me, pulling strands of hair out of the bun to fall in front of my eyes.

"That's done," he told me, letting me take a moment to look myself over. I liked it. At least I didn't look like a chicken.

He put his hand on my back and urged me to stand. "Strip."

Um. Excuse me? I hesitated. I didn't handle it very well when Byakuya put his hands on me while I had clothes on. Being naked in front of him would prove.. dangerous.

"Your clothing is unsuitable," he stated. I sighed, standing. Fine. I'd do it. I'd just think about sumo wrestlers.. the night Izuru fell out of the tree by the school.. Byakuya putting on his own kimono- no! Augh, fuck.

I was more than relieved when a familiar face opened the door to Byakuya's bedroom. Orange hair was bright even in the candlelight.

"Hey, kiddo!" he greeted loudly. Well, that was one way to kill my boner. Ichigo threw a look back at Byakuya as I began to strip.

"You can go get ready. This kid'll take forever, so by the time you're all gussied up, I'll be done with him." I sneered. What did he think I was going to do, fight him like I had when I was eleven?

He'd been right. It had taken forever. The kimono Byakuya had picked for me was huge and heavy. It was made of black silk, the hem decorated with red and gold bursts of color, like fireworks on the night sky. My collar was a bright, contrasting red. I wasn't used to the way that the sleeves brushed the ground. The obi was the worst part, I thought. It was heavy as hell, the gold length of silk dragging the floor after Ichigo tied it. It was clear that I wasn't expected to move, but to watch. Hell, I'd be lucky if I made it from teahouse to teahouse in my damn silk prison.

Byakuya had finished applying his makeup by the time Ichigo was done with me. I hadn't been paying any attention to him, all of my focus on how unwieldy the kimono felt on my body. He had applied his formal makeup, complete with white base. His eyes were lined in black, accented with pink lines. His lips had been painted a glossy pink, barely tinted against the white of the makeup.

His hair was back in a bun, very reminiscent of my own, and his bangs fell angled across his eyes. He also wore the six hair sticks, which I assumed to be his trademark. The two at the top of the bun were white, with pink silk cherry petals hanging down to tease the nape of his neck. The two in the center were pink, topped in white and black beads. The last two were a white base, with intricate pink and black designs painted on. Unlike me, however, a very large, pink and white flowered comb had been secured to the left side of his head, silk petals hanging low enough to brush his shoulder.

He was gorgeous.

He stripped shamelessly before us, and I couldn't help but stare. Ichigo was able to dress him in a fraction of the time. His kimono was far less intricate, but that didn't mean it was less beautiful. Like mine, the base was black. The hem was covered in pink and white sakura petals, a well as the sleeves. The obi was the more striking piece, I thought. It was black, but Ichigo had been able to reverse segments of it, revealing the vivid, hot pink opposite side.

Men toured the world seeking perfection. I didn't have to look more than five feet in front of me.

"Let's go," he offered his hand to me. I took it without hesitation.

My kimono dragged the floor, and I finally realized the purpose of the okobo. His did so as well, perhaps more so. Instead of okobo, however, he wore tall slatted geta to keep the hem from becoming dirty.

* * *

I didn't really understand the ceremony itself. Well, I might have, if I had been paying attention. Byakuya's eyes were on me as the priest spoke, binding us together forever as Taichou and Fukutaichou, and I didn't have it in me to break that gaze.

When it came time, we shared three sips of sake each, the cup passed between us. He reached out, taking both of my hands.

"From now on, you will be known in the world as 'Zabimaru.'"

Zabimaru.

It was a perfect fit.

* * *

The walk to Mr. Urahara's okiya was the longest half-mile I'd walked. I was anxious, for a variety of reasons. I didn't know how my peers would react to my release. Would it be as Aizen said, and we would become strictly rivals? Would they still see me as a traitor, leeching off of another okiya? Of course, Mr. Urahara didn't seem to mind. I would be earning money without costing him any.

Byakuya opened the door and entered before me. I could see the gathering of shadows behind the screen, and felt my heartbeat against my chest. I waited, a loaded spring, as I saw Byakuya's hand go to the door.

"Roar, Zabimaru," he commanded, and opened the door. I stepped into the light, greeted by my friends.

Well. Most of them.

Mr. Urahara clapped wildly, cane raised into the air in celebration. Shinsou was the first to greet me, a smile on his lips and pale blue eyes barely visible under his heavy lids. Wabisuke could barely hold back from hugging me, and he looked at me with wonder in his eyes.

"You've done so much. I'm so excited for you," he whispered. Both he and Shinsou were in makeup and kimono. It was clear that they would be working that evening.

Kyouka Suigetsu and Tobiume were not in attendance.

I bowed to them, and Senbonzakura took my hand. It was his cue that we were to leave. I bid my farewell to my friends, the people I had grown up beside, and headed off to my next destination.


	5. The Call

I had never walked Kyouka Suigetsu or Shinsou to the Niji Teahouse. It was intimidating. The grounds were immaculate, the building new. Senbonzakura escorted me to a very large party room, three tables in length and two across. For the most part, I'd seen Kyouka Suigetsu and Shinsou entertain two or four tables, but never six. No wonder Ukitake had invited so many of us.

Speaking of, Sougyo no Kotowari was seated at the north end of the room, dressed in a cobalt blue kimono, decorated in silver koi fish and tied in a silvery blue obi. His hair was tied back, bangs framing his face, blue hair sticks with long strings of diamonds hanging from the tip holding his ponytail in place. I had never seen his makeup before- he was experienced enough to go without should he choose, and he often did. It was unique, with only half of his face painted white, eyes and the right half of lips tinted blue. His hands were on the arm of an eccentric looking man, whose ample dark brown hair fell in uncontrollable curls out of a loose ponytail. My brow rose. That was the man Ukitake-Taichou spoke so fondly of?

A woman sat behind them in a silvery blue kimono, the collar decorated in snowflakes, but her head was bowed.

Hyourinmaru took the west end of the tables, serving tea to a small selection of yammering businessmen. His kimono was a blue-tinted green, the collar a striking black. A dragon wrapped from the hem to just under his armpit. His hair had been too short to tie back, so he had secured only a singular black and blue jeweled clip among the spikes.

Ruri'iro Kujaku was impossible to miss behind him. His kimono was an almost iridescent indigo, with a black collar to match Hyorinmaru's. It was decorated in blue and green birds, the obi black with a green rope. Visible under his kimono was a layer of vivid orange. Even his makeup had been predictable. His lips were a delicate pink, parted with his perpetual grin. His eyes were painted in the colors of a peacock, with brightly colored feathers glued below his bottom lash line and on his eyebrow. A peacock feather hung from the tie holding the braided length of hair framing the right side of his face, and puffs of feathers hid his ears. Little showoff. He turned his attention to a bald-headed young man, and seemed to get right comfortable.

A little too comfortable.

Noticing our arrival, the man at the receiving end of Ukitake's attention tapped his glass to induce silence. "Gentlemen! Raise your glasses, for today we bear witness to the release of a new Fukutaichou!"

Senbonzakura gave me a nod, and I bowed before the party, who cheered and drank in my honor. Damn, that felt good.

"He's interesting," a man stated. "I've never seen one quite like him. What is his name?"

"Zabimaru," Senbonzakura stated. We moved to sit on the vacant east side of the room.

"You sure do love to keep the children in your company, Kyouraku," the man Ruri'iro Kujaku attended to spoke out.

"You're hardly one to talk, Ikkaku. The danna of a Fukutaichou?" Kyouraku teased back. The man went quiet.

Sensing the tension, Sougyo no Kotowari motioned to the woman seated behind him. "If it pleases the party, my Fukutaichou, Sode no Shirayuki, has perfected a dance she would like to show you." Kyouraku nodded.

The woman stood, and I damn near fainted. In fact, I think I might have. Just for a second.

There was no doubt in my mind that, behind the white makeup and fancy diamond-studded hair clip was Rukia.

My Rukia.

I must have shown my emotions on my face, as Senbonzakura briefly tapped his hand on my back to remind me that I was at work. Right. I placed my hands in my lap, and glued my eyes to Rukia as she started her dance. Sougyo no Kotowari was seated behind her, skillfully playing the shamisen for her. God, she looked wonderful up there. I was so proud of her.

The rest of the night had been a blur. I had been under the impression that I was required to go from teahouse to teahouse, like Wabisuke and Tobiume had. I quickly realized that they had done so for publicity, and that my first engagement had been at the Niji Teahouse. It didn't get any more public than that.

I stole glances of Rukia all night.

She had to know it was me. She didn't look at me, but she would respond to questions posed to her by Hyourinmaru, and turned her gaze to Senbonzakura and Ruri'iro Kujaku. It was only me she had been avoiding.

I saw why Senbonzakura had wanted me to be exposed to different styles, and why Tobiume and Wabisuke had improved greatly after their release. I watched, wonder in my eyes, as Senbonzakura and Sougyo no Kotowari sat across from each other, beating out a rhythm using a turned over sake cup and the table. They were singing a popular song in harmony, with Byakuya taking high notes while Ukitake-Taichou sang melody. All eyes were on their hands as they picked up and dropped the cups on the table, and clapped or rapped their knuckles on the its lacquered surface to keep the beat.

By the time the evening drew to a close, sun peeking over the horizon, we were all exhausted. Ruri'iro Kujaku was drunk. Hyourinmaru's hair had started to droop, and almost everyone's makeup had started to fade. But that didn't matter. I tried to break away from Senbonzakura- I needed to talk to Rukia.

He held me back.

"Not yet," he said lowly. "Wait until you are out of the public eye." I clenched my jaw, and his fingertips brushed my upper arm.

"I know. But you are still in the company of your client," he said lowly, pointing behind us. I turned to look. Shunsui Kyouraku seemed to be following us back to the okiya, his lips attached to Ukitake-Taichou's pale throat.

"You know better than to do that in public," I heard Ukitake-Taichou scold playfully, smoothing down his danna's wild hair. "And don't leave a mark!" he hissed. The man seemed to pay no mind and laughed, pulling Ukitake-Taichou closer to his body and tugging on his earlobe with his teeth. Ukitake-Taichou rolled his eyes in exasperation.

By the time I pulled my gaze away from the couple, Rukia was gone. Fuck! For the longest time, I'd told myself that just seeing that she was safe would be enough for me. But a dog didn't well handle having meat strung in front of his face, did he? My disappointment must have shown, as the next thing I knew, Byakuya had slid his hand into mine.

I laced our fingers together and looked at him. The corners of his lips were upturned.

Knowing that we were tired, and that Ruri'iro Kujaku would be spending the night at his danna's home, Yoruichi offered us lodging. We accepted with grace. I used the room to change into a sleeping robe, let my hair down, and wipe off my makeup. I excused myself to allow Byakuya to do the same in privacy. I wandered toward the kitchen, eyes closed and arms crossed behind my head as I stepped through the open door.

I didn't see the tiger poised there, and I certainly didn't see her strike until I was on my back on the tatami.

"What the hell?!" I yelled out, probably a little too loudly. Rukia was perched on my chest, more pissed off than I'd ever seen her. "What the fuck kind of hello was that?" I demanded.

"I could ask the same of you! Idiot," she hissed. I rolled her off of me and sat up. "Four years and not a peep? I thought Urahara sold you to be a whore," she grumbled. At least I had taken the potential weapons out of my hair before she smacked me in the back of the head.

"I went to the okiya. The first time, Shinsou told me you were at school, and to come back later. I did. Then Kyouka Suigetsu told me that you didn't want to see me." She looked hurt.

"You didn't actually believe him, did you?" I asked.

"Of course I did. I.. he's such a famous geisha. I tried to come back again, but my bro- I was told not to. And then I just got so busy.. and then I heard that you were coming here to train.." She looked ready to cry.

"He also paints his face like a snake. That should tell you plenty about his character," I spat out. As the tears began to fall, I pulled her close.

"God, Rukia," I whispered as she buried her face in my chest. "I thought Bya- Senbonzakura- was keeping you from me. I thought you'd been rejected. I had no fucking clue where you were." I cursed my voice for breaking.

She stood, a smile on her face. "No. It wasn't his fault. In fact, you should go thank him. He made sure I was taken care of. And now it looks like he's taking care of you." She wiped her eyes and smiled. "I have to go. I really need to sleep. But.. we have a lot to catch up on, Zabimaru."

"Good. Get offa me, you stink of fish," I teased.

She smiled as she ran down the hall and disappeared into her bedroom. I sighed, heart heavy with relief. I wandered back to Yumichika's room, and found the door left open just a few inches. I stepped inside and closed the door after me. Byakuya stood in the center of the room, smoothing out a futon. The gauzy white robe he wore was a little loose at the legs, revealing bare skin as he stepped close to me.

"This room is ill equipped. We will have to manage." I looked down at the only futon in the room. At least it was a big one. We both would fit. I think he was only trying to convince himself that the situation was less than ideal- I'd spent my life sleeping beside or in between people. He lived alone. I didn't mind spending the night at his side.

But before we slept, there was something I had to talk to him about.

"Rukia. You protected her. Why?" I had caught him off guard. He brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Because of a promise I'd made," he told me plainly. He didn't want to talk, but I persisted, putting my hand on his back.

"What promise?" I tried to look him in the eye, but he turned away from me.

"Renji," he warned. "You are being impudent." I didn't care. My hand slid to the small of his back. My other hand took one of his, my thumb stroking the sensitive inside of his wrist.

"I plan on telling you that story," he said slowly, able to look at me. "But please. Not tonight." He sounded sincere.

I'd respect his wishes. His gaze dropped and I moved to stand in front of him, supporting his chin with my fingers. It was minute, but I could feel him lean into my hand. Testing his boundaries, I brushed my thumb across his lips. They parted for me, and I could see pink tint his cheeks

I couldn't help myself. Slowly, with one hand resting on his hip, I leaned into him and captured his lips in a kiss.

I hadn't expected him to be so eager. He rose into me, lips moving delicately against mine. My tongue probed gently at his lips and he granted me reluctant access. He tasted of sweet sake, and was equally intoxicating. I opened an eye to peek at him as I slid my tongue against his. His eyes were closed and his face was flushed, and god, I'd never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

He was the first to pull away, sending a spike of pleasure up my spine as he tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth. We stood, the only noise in the room being the harshness of our breath. My hands had settled on the delicate curve of his waist, and his arms were wrapped around my neck. I rubbed his hip gently, pressing our noses together before I stole another kiss.

I couldn't ignore what he was doing to me, not when he stepped closer and his hips brushed mine. My mouth fell open and he took the lead. I thrust my hips forward into him once, twice.

"Fuck," I cursed. I was physically unable to stop, and didn't even have the mental capacity to be ashamed of the fact that I was about to burst against my Taichou's leg. I stiffened with a choked cry, and despite the look of offense on his face, Byakuya let me ride out my orgasm with subtle thrusts against his thigh.

"Sorry," I said meekly as I regained control and backed away. He grabbed a handkerchief and wiped off his bare thigh before handing it to me.

"There are more robes in the dresser. Clean up and come to bed."

I blinked and nodded, doing so while he bundled himself up in the futon. As soon as I was in a new robe, I laid beside him and cuddled into his back. I hooked an arm around the natural curve of his waist.

"Hey," I said gently into his ear. "What just happened.." I hesitated. "Was that a one-time deal?"

He didn't answer with words, but with a quiet snore.

* * *

I would wake up with my partner's face pressed to my chest. I would wrap myself around him, protecting him from the night. He'd wake with a smile on his lips and kiss me passionately, ready to let me sink him into the mattress.

At least, that was how I had envisioned that morning would go.

The reality was, I woke up with a mass of black hair in my nose and mouth. My left arm was supporting his head, and had long since fallen asleep. He slept like the dead, and even the loss of his pillow brought only a quiet sound of irritation from him. I shook my arm vigorously to try to restore blood flow and realized that he'd drooled on me in his sleep.

He was still the most beautiful creature I'd seen.

Not wanting to disturb him, I stalked out of the room quietly. After a short trip to the bathroom, I moseyed into the kitchen. I hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before. I was dying. I grabbed a plum from a basket and turned to leave, but paused at the sight of Shunsui Kyouraku sipping on tea at the table by the window.

"Mr. Kyouraku," I greeted, bowing lightly. He smiled up at me and offered me a seat. I took it.

"Tea?" he offered, pouring me a cup before I agreed. It was strange, seeing someone of such high esteem drinking tea in his pajamas.

"Is Ukitake-Taichou still asleep?" I asked. The clock said ten o'clock. We'd only returned to the okiya at four in the morning.

"Who, Jushiro? Oh, yeah. He's passed out," he laughed. "I'd still be in there with him, but I had to piss. Didn't have the heart to wake him." He took a long sip of his tea.

"Why not just leave once you woke up?" I asked, taking a bite of my plum. From what I'd heard from other geisha, that was how it worked. If a danna stayed the night with his geisha, he left to spare them both the humiliation of being seen. He chuckled.

"I don't agree with that tradition. We tried it once. Made him feel like a whore. That's not my idea of a good time," he said. "And besides, he's always so cute when he wakes up. I don't wanna miss that." He wrinkled his nose.

The tea was bitter and sugarless against my tongue, more so than usual. It seemed Mr. Kyouraku liked his tea strong, too. "Do you love him?"

"God, yes." It hadn't taken a moment of thought. "I know I'm not supposed to say that. Most geisha aren't loved by their danna. He is. And I'm lucky enough to have him love me back." He grinned. "I'm an advisor to the prime minister. I'm a pretty important guy," he teased. "But that boy has known me since I was just an errand boy. I've always been wealthy, of course. Noble family and whatnot. But I like to think he likes me for more than my money." He shrugged.

He passed me a tiny teacake. "What's your name?" he asked me.

I took it. "Zabima-"

"No. Your name, kiddo." I took a bite.

"Renji."

He looked pleased. "Renji. Do me a favor. If you find someone, and there's love between you, don't let them out of your grasp," he told me, looking me in the eye. I was a little uncomfortable. "There's no such thing as forbidden love." He finished his tea and stood.

"I'd better get back to him. He usually wants to go again as soon as he wakes up." He winked at me. "One more piece of advice. If your lover offers sex, take it. Even if you're tired and grumpy. You'll feel a million times better." He waved as he disappeared into the hallway, headed off to Ukitake-Taichou's bedroom.

Well, that had been awkward. I finished my meager breakfast and put my dishes back. I had nothing better to do, so I followed Mr. Kyouraku's example and returned to Yumichika's bedroom. I laughed. Byakuya was spread out across the bed. I gently urged him onto his side and crawled in next to him, my lips finding a warm spot on his neck.

I must have fallen asleep again. The next thing I knew, Byakuya was standing above me, dressed in a plain purple shitage, with hakama to match.

"Wake up," he told me. I grinned up at him, rubbing my eye.

"Hey," I purred out lazily. He poked me in the ribs with his foot. "Fuck, what was that for?" I hissed.

"Auditions for the spring dance are in a month. We need to get to work." I groaned. Couldn't that have waited a few hours?

We'd had an awesome night, but there he was, talking work like nothing happened. He remembered, though. I could tell. Those pretty eyes lingered on me as I stood and dressed in the green yukata he offered me. I approached him boldly, helping him tie his hair back. I leaned in close.

"Can I have another kiss?" I asked hopefully.

"No." How was that for being shut down? He turned toward me sharply. "I had a lapse in judgement." So that was what he called it.

He could tell he'd been unnecessary. He bowed his head, hand brushing mine as he walked to the door.

"Come with me."

* * *

The spring dance was the biggest night in Seireitei. Rich men from all over came to watch new Fukutaichou and experienced geisha alike. Should a geisha land a big role, it boosted his or her popularity exponentially.

"Your ultimate goal is to get a solo," Byakuya told me. "Though you have made great progress, you still hold the weaker hand. I will be pleased as long as your name makes it onto the bill."

Over the course of the next month, I'd seen way more of Yumichika than I'd wanted to. Sure, he was the little dance master of the okiya, but I needed a break sometimes! Though, I noticed that, with my increased skill, he was much smaller pain in the ass.

At least his danna was kickass.

I leaned forward with my hands on my knees, sweat in my eyes. We'd attracted an audience that day- Ukitake-Taichou, Hitsugaya-Taichou, Mr. Kyouraku, and Yumichika's danna, a young captain in the army. I'd met him before- he'd been present for my release.

"Yumichika! Don't your feet hurt by now?" he demanded, letting out a breath of smoke from his cigarette. Ukitake-Taichou snapped his fan open and waved it in front of his face.

"My dear Ikkaku, you know that beauty and pain live side by side," he purred. Oh great. Yumichika was going to start ranting about beauty again. At least that would buy me a few minutes, depending on how long-winded he was feeling.

Ikkaku shrugged, tapping ashes into a cup filled with water. "I mean, you know I love watchin' ya dance. But I'm getting bored." My jaw dropped. No one with any sense of self-preservation would speak to Yumichika in such a manner.

"You're bored?!" Yumichika roared. "Imagine how I feel, teaching the same elementary dance to the same idiot?" Woah. Harsh much?

"Let 'im suffer on his own for a while. Maybe then he'll appreciate all the effort you're putting in and will grow stronger to keep up?" he suggested. Yumichika seemed pleased with this idea.

"Aaa, brilliant as always, my dear," Yumichika purred, stroking Ikkaku's cheek. "Come, then. We'll leave him to his own devices for a while." They exited together, but not before Ikkaku handed his cigarette to Mr. Kyouraku.

"What just happened?" I asked, dropping my hands at my sides. Not that I was complaining.

Kyouraku contemplated the cigarette in his hand. "...Would it be weird if I finished this?"

A laugh on his lips, Ukitake-Taichou leaned back against his chest. "A little."

Kyouraku popped the cigarette into his mouth, holding it between his teeth as he grinned.

"...Can I go now?" I asked awkwardly, shifting my weight from foot to foot. Ukitake-Taichou waved goodbye.

"I'll join you." Oh shit, where had that voice come from? I looked around.. then down. Oh. Fuck. I had forgotten that Hitsugaya-Taichou had been in the room.

"You're not the only one personally victimized by their extravagant behavior, Abarai-Fukutaichou."

Well, at least there was that.

* * *

I'd been given the chance to reunite with Rukia. Whenever she was free, she practiced with me. However, she wasn't one of my tutors. She was on my level. She had joined the ranks of my friends-turned-competition, along with Momo and Izuru. That didn't mean that we had been unable to rekindle the close friendship we had shared. I wasn't going to let something silly like my career get in the way of my friends.

"Come on, Renji," she teased as I tripped over my kimono. Byakuya stood in front, instructing us in a particularly difficult dance. The addition of the kimono just made it that much more difficult.

"Be kind, Sode no Shirayuki," he reprimanded, approaching to help me up. He didn't hesitate to start from the beginning, and I chuckled in triumph as she fell on her ass.

* * *

We dressed in full makeup and formal kimono, escorted to the theater by our Taichou. I stood in line between Momo and Izuru. Byakuya had warned me in advance that the auditions had a group component, where I would likely have to dance with Kyouka Suigetsu's stare burning holes into my back.

The first group I performed in was huge, full of geisha that I did not recognize. We were all expected to dance in unison with the class leader. As soon as the dance started, I saw a plainly dressed official weave through the dancers, tapping the less skilled geisha on the back to send them to their seat. Damn, the could have used more tact, couldn't they? Out of the maybe thirty geisha in the group, only five of us remained.

Myself included.

The second group was more intense. I was joined by Rukia. Momo. Izuru. Yumichika. Shit, was it getting hot in there? Kuchiki-Taichou was joined by Ukitake-Taichou, and Aizen-Taichou took his other side. He wasn't being friendly, I could tell that much.

I tuned him out and danced. It was a complicated dance, and I saw even Yumichika and Izuru out of breath as we stopped.

Then the waiting began. One by one, we were pulled into our individual auditions. We were led into a quiet room, just large enough for us to spread our wings. We were told to dance without accompaniment.

I took a breath.

The dance I picked had been one taught to me by Byakuya, tweaked by Yumichika. It was complicated and easy to stumble, but the rhythm of my hand fans made keeping pace easy.

I was released without a word, the director's expression unreadable.

Byakuya met me outside, expression gentle. "The cast list will be posted next week. Don't worry yourself about it. We have a heavy workload to keep your mind busy."

* * *

The week passed in the blink of an eye. We had engagements lined up every night. I slept until noon each day, and practiced until nightfall. I didn't have the time to fret. That didn't mean I wasn't exposed to fretting, however. Izuru tried to keep a handle on his nerves, but I knew that the waiting was eating at him. Rukia laughed at inappropriate times. It was getting kind of creepy. Poor Momo looked like she was going to have a heart attack.

I had started to interact with the clients while shadowing Senbonzakura. They always liked to tease the new Fukutaichou, and I was always ready with a comeback. They loved it, especially the rich women we entertained. I served tea. I played flute or shamisen for the other geisha.

I was no longer limited to my small circle of trusted geisha- each assignment brought with it a new face. I'd met Minazuki, a beautiful, kind-hearted, experienced geisha, as well as her Fukutaichou, an eager young woman named Itegumo. I'd met Suzumushi when I was younger, knowing him to be one of Kyouka Suigetsu's good friends. He was an interesting one- blind as a bat, but sharp as a whip and gifted in music. I particularly liked his Fukutaichou, Kazeshini. We'd vowed to become drinking buddies when the time presented itself.

I woke early on Saturday, but not by my own volition. Izuru shook my shoulder roughly. I waved him away, groaning and trying to find my pillow to throw at him.

"Renji! Renji, come with me!"

"Go to the public baths with Gin. You're not a little kid, You don't need your hand held," I grumbled, still asleep.

"I'm shy," he corrected. "But that's not it! Get up." He pulled me to my feet and threw a yukata at me. "The cast list is up!"

Oh, shit!

I put my clothes on quickly, and ran out the door with him. Momo had gone ahead. A crowd had gathered in front of the theater, eagerly awaiting the cast list. A well-dressed official emerged from the front entrance and pinned a few pieces of paper to each side of the door.

Izuru ran ahead, able to elbow his skinny body to the front. "I got a solo!" he cried. He ran up to me and used my shoulders as leverage in his excited jump. He turned back to the paper. "I'm The Fox!" he pointed at the breakdown of a number. "Renji, you're.." His eyes scanned the paper.

He went pale.

"What?" I asked, craning my neck so I could see.

"You got the role of The Devil!" He screeched. I blinked.

"What?"

"You got a lead!"

The group went quiet. I wrestled my way to the front.

"Well, fuck me," I said with a grin. "So I did."

The theme of the spring dances changed each year. There were three male leads, and three female leads. The leads told a story. Byakuya had explained that year's theme to me, but I had barely understood it. From what I gathered, there were two stages. From one stage, 'The Spirit' blessed the marriage of the main female lead, 'The Wife,' who danced on the second stage. 'The Mortal' danced opposite of 'The Mistress' as she cheated on her husband, showing her human side. 'The Devil' escorted 'The Widow' to the next life.

Izuru and I looked over the rest of the cast list. I saw many familiar names, from my own Senbonzakura, to my new friend, Kazeshini. I saw plenty of unfamiliar names, or names that I couldn't quite connect to a face.

I moved down the list, and my stomach dropped. Momo's name was the first under 'CHORUS.'

"Oh, Momo," Izuru said softly. She stood, stunned and quiet. Izuru and I had known how badly she had wanted a role. He reached a hand out to her, which was pushed away.

"No, please." She had begun to cry. She covered her mouth with her sleeve as she escaped from the crowd. Izuru and I looked at each other, sobered by the reminder that we were the lucky ones.

* * *

"Somebody explain to me what the hell this is," Aizen-Taichou roared, slamming a copy of the cast list down on the table at which much of the okiya was gathered over tea. Ichimaru-Taichou leaned forward to take a look.

"It's a cast list, Taichou," he drawled out. "With my little 'Zuru in his first big role." He rubbed the top of Izuru's head. Izuru seemed to thrive off of the attention.

"Then what's that?" he demanded, pointing at my name.

"It's not a surprise," Gin stated. "With all the dancin' he's been doin' with Ruri'iro Kujaku and Senbonzakura, o'course.." He sipped his tea.

Aizen ran his fingers along the back of my neck. It would have been sensual if he hadn't been so damn creepy. "What did Senbonzakura do? Offer more than talent to the director?"

I laughed. "You wish." I leaned back after refilling my cup.

Aizen pulled away from me harshly, and leaned in close to Momo. "All of our work. Wasted." Already upset, she lowered her head and started to cry. He clenched his jaw, but wiped her tears away before leaving.

Being the closest one to her, Gin pulled her close.

"Now, now, little Momo. He's just got high expectations. Trust me. He ain't mad at you."

She sobbed into his shirt. "I just wanted to make him proud of me."

"I know, sweetie. It'll come," he promised. "...Maybe."

* * *

"You could also, y'know, be proud of me! God, what do I have to do to?!" I demanded. Byakuya sat across from me, stiff-lipped.

"I am very proud of you, Renji. You will be the talk of Seireitei. I just fear that you aren't ready. Not for that kind of role."

"And Rukia is?" I demanded.

"She has more experience."

"Fuck that!" I cried out. "You tell me I'm succeeding your expectations. That you're proud of me. When am I going to have something to show for it?" I demanded, looking him in the eye.

He stood silently and sat beside me. "Soon."

"That's your response to fucking everything," I hissed. He held my chin.

"The mizuage ceremony is when a young geisha becomes an adult. You will still be my Fukutaichou until you are eighteen, but you will have more say in the direction you go in," he said cryptically. "I am selling your mizuage as soon as the spring dances have concluded," he said.

"My.. what?" I asked, eyebrow raised. He took in a deep breath. Clearly, it was a delicate subject.

"Your virginity."

"You're going to sell it?" I demanded.

"To the highest bidder," He confirmed. "You turned sixteen this summer. You'll grow too old if we wait." I fell back on the tatami. Fuck. No one told me how goddamn degrading being a geisha would be.

"There will be much interest generated by your performance. You will be very popular. We must move quickly, now," he said, stroking hair out of my eyes. "For the next few months, we will put you on display."

He stood. "Come now, Renji. There isn't any time to lose."


	6. How We Operate

Author's Note:

Wow! I keep forgetting to do one of these. Time for me to wake up, eh?

I just wanted to thank everyone for the kind reviews and follows! I started publishing this work because it's been gnawing at the back of my head for years. I didn't expect it to be so well-received!

A lot will be brought to light in upcoming chapters. So if you're waiting for something to be explained, don't worry! It should be addressed. 8)

3POKKIT

* * *

Our nights were intense. We roamed from teahouse to teahouse, with no night being complete until we'd entertained at least three different groups. Not only that, but my afternoons were filled with rehearsal for the spring dance. I was fucking exhausted. I coveted the one day a week I was given to relax. Well, Byakuya's definition of 'relaxed' was loose. I still had to spend a few hours practicing with him.

I was getting really fuckin' tired of that pretty face.

"How does the mizuage ceremony work?" I asked Ukitake-Taichou one morning. I had asked Byakuya, and he'd explained it for me multiple times.. but he gave me technical facts. He was hiding parts from me, I could tell.

I had learned only a little bit when Ichimaru-Taichou sold Izuru's. There had been no buildup that I had seen, but I was rarely present at that okiya. When the winner was announced, it seemed as if Ichimaru-Taichou had bought it himself.

That had brought even more questions.

Ukitake-Taichou smiled knowingly. "So that's what he's planning. Tell me, what do you already know?"

"That he's going to sell my virginity to the highest bidder. I know that Wabisuke's was sold to his Taichou.. is that common?" I asked. He contemplated.

"Actually, yes." He sat me down on his favourite bench. "You see, there is an 'invisible reserve' that the Taichou will set, to ensure that his or her Fukutaichou goes for a fair price. It is a secret- only the Taichou knows the amount. If the bids exceed that number, the Fukutaichou is taken by the highest bidder. If the bids do not, the Taichou saves the Fukutaichou the dishonor of being sold for a low price, and takes them. It is falling out of favor, but still does happen."

I nodded slowly. "Does the person who bought the Fukutaichou's mizuage become their danna?"

He laughed. "Not necessarily. In fact, it is rare. Normally, the client who purchases a geisha's mizuage has no subsequent interaction with him or her. I shouldn't say that it never happens, though- it happened with me." He smiled. God, Ukitake-Taichou was the sappiest man alive.

"Just don't worry. Your Taichou will take care of you. Trust him."

Easier said than done.

* * *

That night, we were to entertain one of Byakuya's most tenured clients- Shinji Hirako. Mr. Hirako was a young man, the new CEO of a high-class hotel chain. He was nice enough to insist that we call him by his first name, but damn, he kept some interesting company. For example, Dr. Mayuri Kurotsuchi. That man wore a mask, which he stated to be reminiscent of a doctor's mask from Medieval Europe. I just thought it was creepy. Kenpachi Zaraki was another of his close friends, a gruff man covered in scars. I hated entertaining him. He looked like he was fun as hell to drink with, but damn did he hate geisha.

"Senbonzakura!" Shinji cried out. He was already drunk, I could tell. "How's the baby?" he asked, looking at me. Or, rather, I thought he was looking at me. The slant of his hair made it difficult to tell.

"It seems as if you've started the party without us," Byakuya teased, settling beside Shinji and pouring some tea to dilute the sake.

"I heard he landed a lead in the spring dance. Is he going to give us a sneak preview?" Dr. Kurotsuchi asked, raising his glass for me to fill.

"If it pleases the party, yes. Zabimaru will take the lead in your entertainment tonight," Byakuya offered. I hid the shock on my face.

Much of the room clapped. Well, it was decided. Senbonzakura moved to the side of the room, playing a few notes on the shamisen to let me know which song he wanted me to perform.

The lights dimmed in the back of the room and I moved to the front. I started with a dance that Yumichika had taught me. It was a mesmerising one, with a lot of fan action and fancy footwork. I was so engrossed in my dance that I hadn't seen Tobiume and Kyouka Suigetsu sneak in.

"How lovely," Kyouka Suigetsu purred to Dr. Kurotsuchi, taking his cigarette between his lips and taking the first drag before settling it between the client's teeth. "Zabimaru is such a talented dancer, isn't he? I wonder how he will be once he's more experienced?" He pulled his own fans out of his obi and pulled a few fancy tricks. Shit, even I had been captivated for a moment. He closed them with a flourish and a snap, eyes on me to make the next move.

Senbonzakura looked pissed.

Interruption came from a member of the group I had never seen before. He was a young man, no older than twenty. He introduced himself as Kaien Shiba, the new manager of one of Shinji's hotels.

I ignored Kyouka Suigetsu for as long as I could. I heard his thinly veiled insults, and his not-so-subtle fishing for Momo's agreement. That asshole. Senbonzakura leaned in to me.

"Turn your attention to Zaraki. He spilled tea on Shinsou years ago, and Kyouka Suigetsu has refused to speak to him since, like a child. He will not compete with you for his attention."

What the fuck had Senbonzakura been smoking? No matter. I did as my Taichou directed. Like Ukitake-Taichou had told me, I had to trust him. He slid in even closer, and handed me a red lacquered container.

"Create a diversion, and give this to Shinji."

"What is it?" I asked, looking down to peek. He corrected me with a prod. "It's a sign that your mizuage is ripe for bidding. He will understand the meaning."

Well. Alright then. I slipped it into my robe.

"How about a drinking game?" I proposed, sliding in close to Zaraki. The man seemed to perk up. "It's called Kiku no Hana." That earned a gasp from everyone, and a spark of interest in Zaraki's eye. "Who will be playing?" I raised my hand. As did Shinji, Kaien, Dr. Kurotsuchi, Tobiume, Zaraki, and Kyouka Suigetsu. Seven of us. At least Byakuya was going to remain sober. Someone had to make sure nobody died, which was a real possibility in Kiku no Hana.

"Senbonzakura will pass around a tray with seven sake cups face-down. Under one of the cups will be a trinket. Ah- who has a coin?" Kaien reached into his bag and tossed me a 5 yen coin. Perfect. Senbonzakura placed the tray on the table, and I handed the coin to him. He placed it under one of the seven cups and shuffled them skillfully. "He will pass the tray around the table, and each player will turn over one cup. If the coin is found, that player must fill all overturned cups with sake, and drink." I grinned. I'd played this game with Gin, Aizen, Izuru, Urahara, and Momo once. I'd never been more drunk. Nor had I seen Izuru make poorer life choices.

"This round will begin with Mr. Zaraki," I said kindly, setting the tray down in front of him.

"Finally, a geisha who knows what a true drinking game is! If I have to play Yamanote-sen one more time, I'm going to murder the entire room." He was joking. Maybe.

The damage had been dealt. No one had been spared. Momo had the worst of it, probably because of how tiny she was. I had gotten lucky, and had only three cups. As the night drew to its close, I stood to say goodbye to Shinji.

"Good time, Zabimaru," he purred. "Ya managed to get the stick outta Zaraki's ass!" He waved at Byakuya. "Senbonzakura! You can bring him again!"

"I'm sure he'd enjoy himself very much." I caught the nod he gave me.

As discreetly as I could, I leaned close to Shinji, and slipped the box into his hand. He immediately shoved it down into his pocket. He did, however, regard me with a knowing smile.

"See ya, kid."

* * *

"He knows what we are up to. He knows our plan, and he can render it ineffective."

"How?"

"He will stalk you. Steal your clients. Spread rumors. Anything." Byakuya rubbed his nose with a soft sniffle. "No matter. I have tricks."

My eyebrow rose. Did I really want to know his tricks?

"Kyouraku, Ukitake-Taichou's danna bids on all of Ukitake-Taichou's Fukutaichou to generate talk. You have Hirako's interest, and you still have the Spring Dance. Are you still practicing daily with Yumichika?" he asked.

"Yes," I groaned.

"It appears Zaraki has taken a liking to you. You will entertain him as often as he will allow over the next few weeks," he told me. I flopped back on the tatami.

"Relax," he told me, placing his hand on my chest. "I have reinforcements in high places. You will entertain clients without me." He stroked hair out of my eyes.

"Tonight, you follow Shinsou."

I sat up quickly. "You mean-"

"I am not feeling well at all." I did notice that he sounded like shit, but hadn't wanted to offend him. "He will never suspect that you'd be in the company of his protege. Be on your guard, though. Shinsou entertains an influential crowd, but in very.. eccentric ways. You will be entertaining his favourite client tonight- a foreigner named Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez. You will also meet a client of mine, Isshin Kurosaki. That will come tomorrow." He handed me a few of the red lacquered boxes, which I hid in my shitage.

"You are Senbonzakura tonight, Renji."

* * *

It felt strange, getting ready in my own okiya. In the months before, I had prepared in Ukitake-Taichou's bedroom, or in Byakuya's. Hell, I didn't even own my own makeup kit yet. I had to borrow Gin's. He told me not to bother going all-out, that makeup was pretty useless at our intended destination.

Uh, what?

"C'mon, kiddo. Spend all night gussyin' yerself up and we'll miss the whole party," he teased, patting the side of my head. "Throw on some eyeliner and shove those cute little sticks in yer hair and let's go!"

Instead of a kimono, Gin set a plain yukata out for me.

Where the hell were we going?

"Have ya ever been to an onsen before?" Gin asked, throwing an arm around Izuru's shoulders as we walked. "Prob'ly not. They're not pretty little Senbonzakura's scene. Not mine either, truthfully," he said boredly. "There's always plenty'a whores runnin' around callin' themselves geisha. It's usually a waste of time, or your client thinks the wrong thing 'cuz he sees pretty girls in painted faces givin' themselves up for a dime." He waved his hand around.

"I got a client who insists I entertain 'im at this trashy place," he stated. "He knows he can get a whore for half'a little Izuru's cost," he said, stroking Izuru's cheek affectionately. "But he hires me. Foreigners, huh?"

"It isn't bad," Izuru told me, leaning on Gin's shoulder and smiling as Gin's lips grazed his forehead. "They're a nice crowd. A little strange, but they mean well. Plus they usually tip," he whispered as we arrived at our destination.

A hot spring, really?

I looked around in amusement as we wandered through the winding halls. There were half naked men running around, as well as women dressed up with white faces and makeup. The contrast between them and us was striking. They tied their obi in the front. Their clothes were cheap. Their makeup was costumey.

I felt fancy as hell.

Gin led us to the spring, and took us to the second little pool partitioned off from the rest of the spring. Three men and a woman rested in the water, speaking in some strange language.

"French," Izuru whispered to me as Gin greeted the client.. and stripped down to nothing. Izuru followed suit.

Goddammit, Byakuya. He was going to owe me big time for that.

"It seems you have a new puppy following you around, Shinsou," one of the men stated. He was an odd one, with blue-grey hair and wild eyes. His accent was strong.

"His mentor ain't feelin' so hot, so I told little Zabimaru that he could follow me around for a little bit."

Gin and Izuru stepped into the water, immediately offering sake to the clients. Reluctantly, I stepped in after them. I looked the clients over, waiting for Gin to introduce them to me. He seemed to catch on.

"Zabimaru, may I introduce Mr. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez," he said, gesturing to the blue-haired man. "Szayelapollo Granz." He pointed at a scholarly-looking pink-haired man, who gave me the most unsettling grin I'd been subjected to. "Coyote Starrk." He was scruffy, and looked ready to fall asleep at any given moment. "And the lovely Ms. Tia Halibel." She was a pretty woman, skin tanned and expression bored.

If nothing else, my night with Gin had taught me a lesson in adaptability. I could barely understand my client's poor, forced Japanese. I had to rely on cues from Gin. I wasn't able to dance or play music, so I had to entertain with wit and stories. I had to keep Mr. Starrk from falling asleep and drowning. I had to tactfully deflect Mr. Granz's creepy offers to 'examine' me without punching him in the throat. It had been a challenge, to say the least.

As we dressed, Gin said his goodbyes to his client. I could tell that Gin liked these clients- I did too, for the most part. Despite their thick accents and strange customs, they'd been a little more laid back than the stuffy company Senbonzakura kept.

"Hey, Shinsou," Grimmjow said, and gestured to me. "That one. You should steal him again sometime."

Gin's lip rose as he looked at me. "Yeah, Zabimaru?"

Subtlely, I crossed behind his back, and slid one of the red boxes into hand.

"Hey, what's this?" He opened the box and looked inside. Inside was a little cake. Grimmjow looked confused, but popped it into his mouth. Izuru clapped his hands over his mouth.

"Means his virginity's up for sale," Gin explained quietly, shielding his face with a fan. "He's invitin' ya to bid. It's a compliment, Grimmjow," he teased, rubbing the back of his neck. Grimmjow opened his mouth to respond.

"Come, little babies. We gotta be gettin' home before dawn. Next time, Grimmjow," he waved as we walked away.

As soon as we were out of earshot, Izuru leaned into me and burst into laughter. Gin did the same, shoulders shaking with amusement.

"He's not supposed to eat it," Izuru laughed.

"Senbonzakura pro'ly bought those a few weeks back. They're for symbolism," Gin rubbed his eyes. "Aaa, let's get outta here before little 'Zuru catches something," he teased, hands laid on Izuru's waist.

I slept as much as I could on the way home. No way was I going to watch Gin try to ruffle Izuru's feathers. Once we were in Seireitei, the carriage driver dumped us. No matter. We all knew where we were. I took a quick look around- and saw Byakuya's house out of the corner of my eye. Huh. That was strange. The lights were still on.

"Hey. You two go ahead," I told them.

"We weren't gonna wait for you, anyway!" Gin sang, not even pausing in his steps.

Uninvited, I opened the gate to Byakuya's house and entered stealthily, hoping that a servant didn't see me and raise a fuss. Slowly, I stalked into my mentor's bedroom.

He looked pitiful.

Byakuya had tied his hair up to get it out of his face. His cheeks were a glowing red, but the rest of his skin was more pale than normal. His eyes were tired. God, he looked like a mess. As I stepped into the light, he rose up out of bed in a coughing fit.

"Renji," he breathed out. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw the lights. Wanted to make sure you were okay," I said, kneeling beside him.

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

"It's just a headcold. It'll pass," he told me, lying back. "Now go home. I can't have you falling ill, too."

I scoffed and stood. "Please." I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the bedroom. I returned moments later with a bucket of cool water and a washrag. I sat down beside him on the bed and dipped the rag in the water. After wringing it out, I opened it and laid it flat on his face. It sounded like a dead fish being slapped onto a table.

"What the hell are you doing?" he deadpanned.

"Shh. I'm makin' ya feel better," I stated, wiping the wet rag down his face and neck. I dipped it back into the water and rolled it up, rubbing it along his throat and chest, earning a soft sigh. Ah, so he liked that. His eyes fluttered closed and he coughed quietly, trying to control the severity. I rolled him onto his side and pulled the pillow from under his head, shoving it into his arms.

"Hold it while you cough. It'll keep you from breakin' a rib," I told him. My time with Hisana had taught me more than manners. I settled down beside him, spooning him as I pressed the cold rag to his face. I hadn't noticed how perfectly we fit together, even with how much thinner than me he was. I pressed my nose to the back of his neck. God, he was hot, and not just in the good way.

Neither of us had a restful sleep. His body was wracked with coughing fits every few minutes. He tossed in my hold, unlike the night he'd laid peacefully in my arms without moving hardly at all. I hadn't minded sleeping only a few minutes every hour, but I felt for him.

He finally woke with hunger and the need to relieve himself. I was encouraged by the fact that he'd had a few cups of tea and some miso soup. Of course, he'd lost it a few hours later. Plenty of people got to see Senbonzakura dolled up in a pink kimono and white makeup.. but I got to hold his hair and rub his back while he rejected his breakfast.

"You have to go," he said, eyes closed as he laid his head in my lap. I laughed, running a soft bristled brush through his hair.

"What, and leave you here?" I asked, pausing to look down at him. "Who'll take care of you?"

"I will," he answered indignantly. I put the brush down.

"Please," I scoffed. "You can barely breathe. No way am I leaving you here alone." I slid my hand over his forehead. At least his fever was starting to break. I really hated seeing him in such a state.. but I'd rather it be me than anyone else.

He sighed, rolling in with his face toward my stomach. "You can't go to see Ukitake-Taichou. He falls ill easily." I'd noticed that. He often had a sniffle or cough.

"You don't like to let people love on you, do you?" I asked, more to myself than him.

Those pretty grey eyes fell closed, and he shifted into a more comfortable position. "Have a servant inform Shinsou that you are here. You may stay with me only until it is time for you to leave." He paused for a coughing fit.

"I'm comin' back right after," I said stubbornly. He didn't protest.

After a few quiet moments, he slid his hand up my thigh and pinched it.

"Hey, what was that for?" I demanded. He sat up slowly, hair plastered to the side of his face.

"Just because I'm stuck lying here doesn't mean that you are, too. Get up. Dance. Play your flute. You are entertaining a demanding client tonight." I looked at him blankly. Really? He was serious? Well, it was a distraction..

I stood, grabbing two of his fans off of the table.

While I practiced, he drifted in and out of sleep. I let him, seeing it as an invitation to move at a more leisurely pace. Two hours before I was set to leave with Shinsou, I got to work with my makeup. Byakuya was asleep, thankfully- he would have laughed at my cursing and my unskilled hands. Once my makeup was in place, I disappeared into his attic with one of his handmaids, and demanded that she help me dress. She did, putting me in a white kimono with a depiction of an autumn day painted onto the silk.

I went to the door as soon as I saw Shinsou and Wabisuke walk up. Shinsou was dressed in the long white coat I'd seen Kyouka Suigetsu favor, as well as a cornflower blue kimono to match Wabisuke's. Hey, at least I'd stand out. As I grabbed my own coat, I looked back to see Byakuya sitting up in his bed. Color had returned to his face- it seemed that the nap did him some good.

"Renji." His use of my given name sent shivers up my spine. "Your hair's crooked. Have Shinsou fix it."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. I'll make you proud."

"I know you will." He was sincere. "Thank you, Renji."

I flashed him a cocky smile. "Yeah."

The door slid open. "C'mon kiddo, ya waitin' for your wage to fall outta the sky?" Shinsou teased. I threw a wave to Byakuya as I followed Shinsou out.

* * *

"Client's one'a Senbonzakura's. I've only met 'im once, when I was just a little baby Fukutaichou myself," Shinsou admitted. "Yer as blind as I am on this one." That was comforting. I looked at Wabisuke for help, but found none.

We met the men at one of the teahouses in the Hanamachi. Seireitei was full of them- I couldn't keep them straight. As soon as we sat down, I understood why we had been hired.

The two men hated one another. We were icebreakers.

Of course Byakuya would pull that shit on me.

Isshin Kurosaki was an intense man. He was affable and fond of the sake Wabisuke poured for him. Shinsou and I flanked Ryuuken Ishida, a cold-tempered doctor who seemed to take pleasure in poking at Mr. Kurosaki's temper. He was bear baiting through their business negotiations, and we were there to control the situation.

The night had been a success, I thought. Nobody had launched teacups across the table. Our dances and songs brought momentary silence from the bickering men. Even their arguments seemed to die down as the incense sticks grew shorter.

At the end of the night, I was granted the opportunity to see the final goodbye to the client. I had much more freedom with Shinsou. I always had- he was lazy. I slid one of the red lacquered boxes to Mr. Kurosaki and considered my work done- I hoped every interaction with him wasn't supposed to be that damn awkward.

* * *

We parted ways at Byakuya's front door again. As soon as I stepped through the door, I called for a maid to help me out of my damn kimono. Finally freed from my heavy silk prison, I donned my hakama and shitage. I wandered into the living room to find Byakuya still asleep. I couldn't hide a smirk as he snored loudly, rolling toward me. As gently as I could, I lifted him from the floor and carried him to bed.

I had tried and failed to not wake him. A glare pierced my soul as I placed him down onto the bed, and smacked my hand away as I tried to cover him with blankets. He let me lie beside of him, lazily cuddling himself into my warmth. I took a deep inhale of the scent of his hair.

I was really liking sleeping beside him, even if he drooled and kept me up all night between his coughs and snores. If he wasn't careful, I was going to end up addicted to him.

* * *

Byakuya was feeling well enough the next morning. He went to his rehearsal, which meant that I had to go to mine. That was what I got for getting too comfortable with him in my arms.

We didn't really talk about the nights he'd been sick. He was a prude, and I respected that. If I tried to address it before he was ready, he would have just shut the door in my face.

Weeks passed, and I'd never been more tired in my life. Between rehearsal for the spring dance, my daily lessons, and accompanying Byakuya to parties, I was dead on my feet. At least my mentors had backed off a bit to give me time to breathe.

I was exhilarated on the night of the spring dances.. but not for the same reason as everyone else. Momo was excited to just get out there and do her best, and try not to break anything. Izuru was looking forward to Gin seeing him in a main role, and Yumichika was ready to be showered with attention afterward. Rukia was still in shock from being cast as a lead.

I was looking forward to finally having time to rest. I just wanted all of the shit to be over.

Right before my performance, Byakuya paid me a visit. He was wordless as he approached me, only pressing his nose to mine briefly.

"You'll do well," he told me, turning on his heels to take his seat in the audience.

"What was that about?" Rukia asked with a laugh, fanning the back of my neck hard enough to make me grimace. She poked me in the back. "Come on. It's time to go."

The Devil had been the perfect role for me. Not only was it a fast-paced dance, not overly artistic, but I got to play with fire. I had practiced with fans, but for the dress rehearsal and actual performance, I was given torches. Adrenaline fueled me through my dance. I was blind to the audience, to everything but the flames in my hands. I had desperately wanted to see the performance Rukia had worked so hard on, but my goal had been, basically, to not light myself on fire.

Judging by the roaring applause, I had succeeded and Rukia hadn't fallen off of the stage. I broke character just long enough to shoot a grin at Rukia on the other stage. She grinned back.

* * *

Rukia and I celebrated together while Ukitake-Taichou and Byakuya gushed about our performances. Of course, we were expected to stay until our mentors took us home. The two of us wandered over to where Ukitake-Taichou and Byakuya were chatting with a group of men, including Shunsui Kyouraku.

"So, I heard through the grapevine that little Zabimaru's mizuage will be sold tomorrow night. And after such a sensational performance! Are you excited, Senbonzakura?" He was baiting. Rukia could barely contain a giggle.

"You have heard correctly. And yes. I am very proud of him."

"It'll be competitive, don't you think?" Kyouraku turned to Ukitake, sliding a large hand up and down his waist.

"It will be interesting to watch. With the amount I received for Senbonzakura's, I will be anxiously awaiting finding out what Zabimaru and Sode no Shirayuki go for."

I turned sharply toward Rukia, who was hiding a grumpy blush.

"You too?" I demanded. She nodded meekly.

"We didn't want to tell you. We thought you might go all scary big brother on whoever wins." She waved her hands. I resisted the urge to push her down while she was still in a kimono.

* * *

Every goddamn geisha in Seireitei had crowded inside of Mr. Urahara's okiya. Gin laid in Izuru's lap, half asleep. Aizen stood in the doorway, arm around Momo. Mr. Urahara played a game of Go with Yoruichi. Yumichika drummed his fingers on the table while Hitsugaya leaned against the cool glass of the window in the main living area. Ukitake and Byakuya stood at the two phones in the okiya- Ukitake manned the okiya's public line, while Mr. Urahara's private line had been taken over for my bidding. Rukia and I sat back to back, pretending to read a newspaper.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Aizen asked, voice full of disinterest. "Even my Momo went for 4500 yen, and her bidding certainly didn't take this long."

"That's cuz only one person bid," Gin retorted.

"Says he who rigged his Fukutaichou's auction so that he could dip his own fingers in the pot," Aizen whispered into Momo's ear. She giggled.

"You tellin' me you wouldn't wanna ruffle these pretty feathers?" Gin asked, practically jumping up Izuru's body and burying his nose in a very surprised Izuru's throat.

"Taichou!" Izuru cried, but settled his hands on Gin's head.

"Now, now, children," Mr. Urahara scolded lazily, waving his hand at them. They were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Mine.

Altogether, the bidding took four hours. A breath before the stroke of midnight, they took one last bid.

Byakuya was the first to pull himself away from the phone, notepad in hand. Ukitake seemed to be doing calculations.

"We did not meet reserve." My heart sunk. That meant-

Wait. What did that mean?

"Initial bid was placed by Shunsui Kyouraku in the amount of 300 yen." Wow. Way to make me feel good about myself, Kyouraku. "Highest bidder without reaching reserve was Shinji Hirako. Reserve was not met by 200 yen," he stated, and handed his notepad to Mr. Urahara. "Which means that I will be paying a sum of 8000 yen directly to this okiya."

Everyone went quiet. Urahara looked giddy. I leaned against Rukia.

All eyes fell on Ukitake-Taichou as he handed his notes to Yoruichi. "Reserve of 1000 yen was broken by Mayuri Kurotsuchi." Aizen laughed loudly. "Bidding continued, and reached the amount of 3000 yen, bid by Kaien Shiba."

I could feel Rukia's excitement through my back.

Gin looked up from his assault on Izuru's throat. "Ya must be disappointed, Ukitake-Taichou. Your last geisha went for 15000," he said, waving at Byakuya. My jaw dropped. Damn.

He smiled. "There are some things more important than money," he said kindly.

I stood and approached Byakuya. He put his hand on the center of my chest before I got too close.

"Tomorrow." I nodded. Hell, I was looking forward to it. Kind of. I had no idea of how it was going to work.

At least I wasn't the only one. I'd have Rukia by my side.

Well. Not for all of it.

* * *

Author Note: PS. I am always looking for a beta reader! This brain baby is cleaned up by the lovely 3lyen, but I always love another set of eyes.

If you're interested, please email at tacoaizen , or add me on Skype at HOTPOKKIT. 8)


	7. Tear You Apart

Author's Note:

Alrighty, guys. This is kind of a filler chapter- it sets up for Chapter 8. c: It also marks the introduction of a surprise pairing.

_**Most of this chapter is NSFW.**_

* * *

_Renji_  
I was nervous. Why was I nervous? There was no reason for it. I was comfortable with Byakuya. It was better him than anyone else. Then why wouldn't my heart stop trying to claw its way out of my chest?

Sleep had been impossible that night. Thankfully, I was surrounded by people who could relate.

"It isn't bad," Izuru promised me. "I mean, it might have been different for me because it was someone I cared for, but I liked it," he shrugged.

"I just laid there and closed my eyes," Momo chirped cheerfully.

I really didn't want to be having that kind of conversation with them.

I had to scrounge for things to do during the day. Because of the 'monumental occasion,' I had been given the day off. Off. As in, no practice. No work. Nothing. I had no idea what to do with myself. Too much time was dangerous.

I cleaned. I played my shamisen. I played a game of mahjong with Aizen, and lost terribly. I let Momo braid my hair. I didn't do anything that required thought, because my mind had been taken over by the fact that I, of all people, was going to have the opportunity to have sex with the beautiful and highly desired Senbonzakura.

I would have killed for an hour with Yumichika to distract myself.

Thankfully, Rukia had been just as much of a wreck as I had. She wandered over in the early afternoon following a bath, and flopped down beside of me.

"This sucks," she groaned, burying her head in her arms as I poured her a cup of tea. I smirked. At least she wasn't going to have to be reminded of the day every time she looked at her Taichou.

Hitsugaya-Taichou picked me up as soon as the sun set. Because Byakuya was part of the ceremony, and because Ukitake-Taichou was preoccupied with Rukia, he had agreed to serve as my Taichou for the night. Really, I preferred it. He wouldn't make it awkward, nor would he gush about my 'blossom into manhood' like Ukitake-Taichou had.

"Any last minute questions?" he asked as he tied the blood red obi of my snow-white kimono. The obi had been knotted in such a way that it required assistance from another person to undo. Symbolism. Hah. I got it.

"Am I going to be able to look him in the eye after this?" I asked with a sigh as he tied my hair back.

"Depends on how awkward you make it," he said. "If it helps, don't think of it as an obligation or a financial arrangement.. You are showing gratitude to your mentor, and offer a deepening of your bond." He blew out a candle. "As long as you don't vomit on him, you have nothing to worry about."

Yeah. That helped.

"Remember that there's no right or wrong way to do.. it," he muttered, blush creeping over his cheeks. "Listen to him, and make sure he listens to you. That's how you'll know if he.. er.. likes something. Anything else?" The blush had grown hotter. I grinned. He was eager to get off of the subject, wasn't he?

"Tell me exactly what I'm supposed to do," I purred. "I'm just an innocent virgin Fukutaichou. I don't know anything about sex."

Hitsugaya-Taichou's ears went red and he held his head in his hands. "You have been in the presence of Yumichika Ayasegawa for more than five consecutive minutes. You know what sex is," he cried in exasperation. I laughed.

"I'm teasing," I waved at him. He grumbled bitterly.

As we arrived at Byakuya's house, I felt a wave of apprehension pass over me. It must have shown on my face or in my gait, as Hitsugaya-Taichou grabbed my hand to pull me up the stairs.

"No cold feet. If I have to be here, you have to be here." Wasn't he just a ray of sunshine? I was glad I wasn't losing my virginity to him, if he was going to have that kind of outlook on it.

As soon as we reached Byakuya's bedroom door, it was opened. He stood inside, dressed in red with a white obi. His hair was loose, and his posture was a little more closed off than it normally was. If I hadn't known better, I would have assumed him to be the virgin in the room.

The three of us shared a bow. Did I see anxiety in those pretty grey eyes? Wordlessly, Hitsugaya-Taichou took my hand, and placed it into Kuchiki-Taichou's.

"I trust you'll take care of him?" It hadn't really been a question. I was sure that there was supposed to be some long speech, but Hitsugaya-Taichou had shit to do.

"Of course," Byakuya affirmed softly. Hitsugaya-Taichou nodded briskly, lit a stick of incense for us, then turned on his heels to leave.

_Byakuya_  
As the door clicked behind Toshiro, I became acutely aware of my apprentice's eyes on me. I felt my cheeks heat up, and willed the growing blush to disperse. I lowered my head, and felt a strong hand brush hair away from my face while the other settled on my waist. I couldn't look at him. Not yet.

"So. What do I..?" he asked awkwardly, fingers clenching around my hip. I brought my hand to my hair, pushing it behind my ears.

"Anything you want."

I opened my mouth to speak again. I hadn't been given the chance, with his rough, inexperienced lips pressed harshly against mine with the soft click of teeth on teeth. I put a hand on his chest, not to push him off of me, but to tell him to slow down. He took the cue and sighed into my mouth, sense of awkward urgency fading away.

As the kiss continued, I slowly guided him to my bed without breaking contact. He sat down on it, upper body propped up against the wall. I crawled on top of him and settled into his lap, heart rate increasing as I felt him, already hard against my leg.

"Taichou," he whispered against my throat, pressing kisses against it. I took his head in my hands and pushed him back so that I could see his face.

"I'm not your Taichou here," I stated, taking his hands and placing them on the curve of my waist. "You may call me by my given name. Byakuya."

He gave me a cocky grin, and brushed the hair away from my face. "Byakuya." I felt shivers down my spine as he lowered his lips to my collar bone. I rolled my head back as he explored with his mouth, pausing every now and then to suck or nip at a bit of skin.

"Don't leave a mark where people will see," I scolded as he did just that, sucking harshly on the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He laughed against my throat, and the vibrations brought a soft gasp from my lips.

His hands began to roam over my chest. I was content with just letting him explore. It kept the pressure off of me. Truthfully, I was no more experienced than he was. My mizuage ceremony had been short and to-the-point. I hadn't let the strange man engage in foreplay, nor had he wanted to. Though I had been the one to pay, it was Renji who was getting his money's worth.

He put pressure on my hip, urging me off of his lap. I knelt beside him as he turned to me, his hand reaching back to my obi.

"How d'ya get this thing off?" he asked, frustration in his voice. He tugged at it, though only succeeded in tightening the fabric around my ribs.

"Like this," I guided gently, reaching back to place my hand overtop of his. I showed him where to pull, where to slide his fingers. He gave a triumph 'hah!' as the fabric fell loose, dropping to the bed. He coaxed me down onto the bed. I submitted, even allowing him to place my arms above my head. He sat back and gawked at me. I felt the blush return to my cheeks.

"What?" I demanded, probably a little more harshly than I had intended. He shook himself out of his trance and laughed, gently opening my kimono to reveal the second layer.

"Nothin'. You're just gorgeous. That's all." I turned my head to the side as he gingerly pulled the kimono away from me and draped the red silk over a nearby chair. At least he'd had the decency to not tear it or ball it up on the floor. He reached behind his own back and tugged at his obi.

"Oh. Shit. Can you help me out?" Renji turned his back to me, and I had to hide a laugh as I untied his obi with skillful fingers. He smiled appreciatively, and threw his own kimono onto the chair with mine.

Heavy silk discarded, he climbed on top of me, straddling my hips and propping himself up on his arms. He pressed his lips to mine, and I rose into the contact, which was quickly becoming familiar. He was becoming good at it, learning how to be mindful of his teeth and slide his tongue against mine with light strokes instead of force.

I ran my hands along his chest, fingers brushing bare skin as I brushed his dressing robe aside. I paused as the movement of the fabric revealed more of those cursed tattoos on his chest and abdomen.

"How long have those been there?" I asked, raising a brow at him. He grinned sheepishly.

"Few days." I laughed out of exasperation, raising a leg to brush against his hip.

Renji was young and eager. While I was more than content with lazy foreplay, I knew in the back of my mind that with youth came the inability to keep patience. He reached down my body, sliding the heel of his hand along the growing bulge between my legs. He seemed encouraged by the sharp gasp I rewarded him with.

"Did you like that?" he asked with a smirk, doing it again. I lifted my hips and my hand in unison, boldly grabbing his erection through his robe. He stiffened with a groan.

"Did you like that?" I hissed into his ear, tugging at the lobe with my teeth. He shuddered and grabbed my hips, making quick work of untying the unsubstantial belt holding my dressing robe together. He slid it off of my shoulders eagerly, tossing it aside as my entire body was bared before him.

I felt the blush on my cheeks spread as he looked at me, absolute awe in his eyes. It was embarrassing. He ran his hands along my sides, earning him a pleased sigh.

Without warning, he leaned down my body and pressed his tongue to the head of my half-raised erection. I threw my head back, and the cry wrenched from my throat surprised me. He smirked and carefully took the head into his mouth. His inexperience was more than apparent, with the occasional scrape of teeth or a rough suck. He'd even moved too quickly for himself, and ended up gagging once or twice. It was pleasurable nonetheless, even though I knew very well that he would not bring me to completion in that manner.

Once he either lost patience or deemed me hard enough, he eagerly tore the dressing robe from his own body. I appraised him like a fine jewel, and smirked as my evaluation seemed to embarrass him.

He settled himself between my parted legs, and I reached out to stroke him briefly. It had been bigger than I'd anticipated, though his size came mostly from its length. He hissed in pleasure as my hand closed around the shaft, grip tightening as I reached the head. He let his eyes fall closed and his mouth fell open as his breaths grew shallow. When he started to thrust into my hand with quick, short bursts of his hips, I let go.

"Hey, why'd ya stop?" he asked, breath rough. I smirked.

"Can't you wait until you're inside of me this time?" I asked, brow raised. He adjusted himself.

"Not if you keep talkin' like that," he grumbled. I laughed, sitting up and pressing his stomach to urge him off of me. I stood slowly, and he watched me with curiosity as I grabbed a small bottle from a table. I tossed it to him, and he inspected it while I fell onto my hands and knees in front of him.

"What is it?" he asked, opening the bottle and sniffing the contents.

"Lubricant. Coat your fingers with it." Ever obedient, he did so before I had the chance to finish. "Then.. slide your fingers inside of me. One by one." I saw his eyes widen in realization, and he scrambled to settle behind me. I knew that he knew what the process would be for.. I knew Yumichika and Ichimaru-Taichou to touch on the subject, even in polite conversation.

I hissed out as he slid the first finger inside of me. He moved it around, experimenting with different angles and motions. It didn't hurt.. it simply felt strange. I looked back to him and nodded, letting him know that it was alright to proceed. He wasted no time in doing so, and eagerly added a second finger to the first. I breathed through the stretching pain, eyes closed in concentration as I willed it away.

I had been caught completely off my guard by the sudden, overwhelming pleasure as his fingers brushed against something inside of me. I screamed out, cock twitching, and buried my face in the pillows.

He paused, sliding his fingers out of me in panic. "What is it? Did I hurt you?" There was worry in his voice. I didn't have time for his shyness. I looked back at him, lust in my eyes.

"Fuck me," I growled, no longer caring about how vulgar I sounded. I didn't care that I was underprepared- it had been more than I'd been given my first time. I would cope.

I hadn't needed to tell him twice. Within seconds, he was behind me. No. I didn't want that. I reached behind me and grabbed his dick before he could slide it into me.

"Huh?" he watched me as I turned to lie on my back, grabbing a pillow to prop my hips up. He grinned as he caught on, and parted my thighs with gentle hands. He settled between my parted knees, having the decency to lubricate himself before placing the blunt tip at the entrance.

"I never took you for a romantic," he teased. I hushed him with a lift of my hips, and he pushed himself inside.

It had felt better than I had expected. It took him a while to figure out a rhythm, but once he found one that worked, he didn't let it go. He held my hips in an iron grasp, and I clawed at his shoulders as his thrusts increased in intensity. It was good. His hips stuttered and he kept underestimating his strength and slipping out of me.

"Not gonna last," he moaned against my throat. I hadn't expected him to. He was young, after all. He came abruptly with a choked gasp, stilling inside of me before giving a few rough, short jerks of his hips. I could feel the wetness of his release inside of me, and I cringed at the sound of him pulling his spent cock out of me.

I watched him, still unsatisfied, as he collapsed beside me. His face was absolute satisfaction, and that had been enough for me... but not for him. Despite his post-coital bliss, he sat up and once again took me into his mouth. He was dedicated, I had to give him that.

"Renji.. I'm-" I tried to warn. He didn't seem to mind... until I came in his mouth with a cry of my own. He swallowed with a grimace, and flopped down beside me.

We said nothing. Not yet. I crawled close to him, and gave a hefty sigh as he pulled me onto his chest. I fell asleep before I realized, soothed by gentle fingers running through my hair.

* * *

_Aizen_  
A soft knock on the doorframe woke me from my nap. I put on my glasses and stood from bed, smoothing out the black dressing robe I had fallen asleep in. It was probably Urahara again, warning me not to oversleep and miss an assignment. When was that man going to realize that I had control over my actions?

"Yes?" I snapped, opening the door.

Oh. Momo.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, voice full of concern. "I'm so sorry, Aizen-Taichou," she bowed. I reached my hand out and stroked her cheek, soothing away the worry on her face.

"Don't worry about it, Momo," I said kindly, moving so that she could enter. I closed the door behind her. "What's the matter?"

She looked ready to cry. "I've realized what a poor Fukutaichou I am," she cried, falling to her knees before me. I wanted to ask her what took her so long to realize, but cruelty would be counterproductive. So instead, I took a knee beside her.

"And why do you say this?" I asked, rubbing her back.

"I haven't given myself to you."

I paused. She continued on.

"I heard Hitsugaya-Taichou tell Renji that he was deepening his bond with Senbonzakura by spending the night in his bed." She looked down. "I... that's why Izuru does.. it with Ichimaru-Taichou. I'm so sorry for not offering myself sooner."

Her innocence was overpowering. I stalked over to her and crouched, tipping her chin up. "What a generous offer," I purred, stroking her hair. "Are you saying that you feel that our bond needs strengthening?" I was more than open to the idea. While she wasn't the most skilled geisha, Momo was a beautiful girl, and it had been so, so long since I'd felt a woman's touch.

"I would do anything to become closer to you, Aizen-Taichou." I knew her to speak the truth. I urged her to stand, and brushed her cheek with my fingertips.

"You are a very beautiful girl," I sighed out, cupping one of her breasts. She whimpered. Yes. I slid my hand into her clothing and squeezed her bare breast fondly.

I stepped away from her and sat on a chair in the corner of my bedroom. "Strip," I told her, watching intently.

"Yes, sir."

And she did, dropping her dressing robe in one smooth motion. She used her hands to protect her modesty, an arm covering her breasts while a hand hid what would be found between her legs. I adjusted myself.

"Come here, pretty girl. Into the light." She did as told. "Drop your hands." She did so slowly, rubbing her thighs together with anxiety. I grinned, motioning for her to sit on my lap. She straddled my thighs, distancing herself from the growing bulge in my robe. Knowing what she wanted, I pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Was the man who bought your mizuage an attentive partner?" I asked her, kneading her bare breasts. She shook her head. "Did he give you an orgasm?" She shook her head again. "Such a pity." I leaned forward, eagerly sucking a nipple. She cried out and arched into me. Hands on her hips, I pulled her closer and repeated the attention on the other nipple. I looked down at her crotch, and gently slid a finger between my leg and her pussy, smirking at how wet she was.

"Look at you, already dripping wet. Go lie on the bed. Legs open," I told her. As soon as she spread her legs for me, I nestled myself between them and kissed down her thigh.

"No!" she cried out as I brought my lips down to the juncture of her groin. I paused.

"What is the matter?" I asked, urging her legs to spread wider. She covered her face.

"It's embarrassing, having your face.. down there." She whispered. I laughed.

"That feeling will fade." Without wasting any more time, I licked a long, slow line from the opening of her vagina to her clit. She screamed into her hands, falling back against the bed. That was the reaction I'd been expecting. I assaulted her with my lips and tongue, focusing on her clit. Her cries were music, and I could see her playing with her own breasts as her thighs began to tremble. Before she knew it, I had her screaming out for me, and I could feel the rhythmic contractions with my tongue as she came to her very first orgasm.

She laid back, one leg dropped against the bed, panting with the peak of her pleasure. I wasn't done with her. Not yet. I moved my obi so that I could part the bottom of my robe, exposing myself to the open air. I gave her no time to recover before I was inside her, hovering above her body.

She cried out with every thrust, and I responded with soft moans of my own. It had been too long. She was too wet. She was too tight. She was- shit. Shit!

I had meant to pull out. I had. My body had ideas of its own, forcing me to come to my finish without permission and in a very, very dangerous location. I pulled out of her with a grunt, taking a moment to peer at the clock.

"We are to be at the teahouse in three hours," I panted, voice soft. "I suggest cleaning up and getting ready."

* * *

_Ukitake_  
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I turned slightly toward the door, not bothering to open my eyes.

"I feel you there," I teased. I heard him laugh as he closed the door behind him. In one smooth, fluid motion, he sat down beside me and laid his head in my lap. I plucked the oversized straw hat from atop his head and placed it aside. He sighed in pleasure as I untied his hair and ran my fingers through the thick curls.

"I don't take well enough care of you for you to treat me the way you do," he sighed out, leaning into my touch. I clicked my tongue at him.

"Maybe you should take better care of your hair instead?" I asked, working a knot with my fingers. He winced in pain, burying his face in my thighs.

"Such abuse! You used to be such a sweetheart. What happened, Jushiro?" he wailed dramatically. I worked through the knot with a quiet 'rip' of hair.

"You used to be such a handsome man. What happened, Shunsui?" I retaliated, teasing in my eyes. He turned face-up, blessing me with that beautiful grin of his.

"Apparently age hasn't taken a shining to me like it has to you. Look at you. You still glow like the rising sun on the snow," he gushed, reaching up to stroke my chin. I leaned into the contact, bending forward so that I could press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Yumichika told us that we were sappy. Hitsugaya told us that we hadn't matured past the teenagers-in-love stage. Maybe that was true, but I was content with my life as long as those dopey grey eyes looked at me with such affection. He sat up and I wasted no time in crawling into his lap, wrapping my arms around him. Being the indulgent creature that he was, he buried his face in my chest. I smiled, stroking his hair and toying with one of his ears.

"When are you going to come for a visit, Jushiro?" he asked, looking up at me with those big puppydog eyes. I kissed his forehead.

"You know I don't like to hover. It upsets Nanao," I told him, trying to ignore his childish pout. "How are the children?" I wanted to change the subject. Shunsui's wife was jealous. I stayed away out of respect for her.

"Shuichi's doing great," he said with a grin. "Sucker's better at math than I am. And don't get me started on Hikaru. Kid rivals your skill in poetry."

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And Kumiko? How's my little girl?" I asked eagerly. Though I loved them all, Kumiko was my baby. Shunsui had allowed me to name her, and I'd been attached ever since.

"Followin' Nanao like a shadow. Still a daddy's girl," he grinned, nuzzling into my chest. "She cried because she wanted to see you the other day. She wanted her Bunny." I groaned.

"You're just trying to guilt me, aren't you?"

"Yeah." He was shameless. "'Cuz I know it works." It was true. He sighed, pressing his lips to my throat. I let him, lolling my head back to give him more room to play with. When he sought my company, I knew better than to ask about his family at length. He didn't like to talk about it. His love for his children came from obligation. I had tried to discourage his bitterness by calling his children mine, or referring to Nanao in a positive light. It barely worked.

So I would give him what he came for.

I reached down, undoing my obi for him. He grinned against my throat, lips warm on my sensitive pulse point. I gave him a soft mewl as he slid his hand along my clothed thigh, brushing my robe open so that he could see bare skin. Even if we didn't end up having sex, he liked having me naked before him. I found it ironic, considering the seemingly dozens of layers he chose to wear.

"So selfish," I scolded, sliding the jacket off of his shoulders. "Taking my clothes when it's so cold outside."

"Cold, huh?" He smirked, sliding his freezing hands up my warm thigh. I gasped at the harsh temperature and shoved him away.

"You cruel man!" I laughed out. He took my hands in his and held them together, blowing warm air onto them.

"Is that better, baby?" he cooed, rubbing his rough whiskers against the back of my hand. I sighed dramatically, lolling my head back.

"I'm still cold."

"I can fix that," he said, shrugging off the rest of his clothing. He pushed it all aside and led me to the bed. He encased the two of us in blankets, rubbing our noses together fondly. He laid me back against the mattress and kissed down my body, from my lips, down my throat, each nipple, the center of my chest. He blew a raspberry in my navel and rubbed his rough stubble against the sensitive skin of my belly.

"Stop, stop!" I managed to cry out through my laughter. I pushed down on his head, and he took the cue, sucking on the inside of my thigh hard enough to leave hickeys. I hooked my leg around the back of his neck in encouragement. I didn't mind him leaving hickeys where no one else would see, and the delicate inside of my thigh was his favourite place to mark. He became almost aggressive, as if he was branding me for his own. In reality, he'd done that long ago. I hadn't slept with anyone but him, not even for my mizuage ceremony.

Had life dealt us any other hand, we would have married long ago. We played with the hand we'd been given instead, and had learned to make the most of it.

"How do you want me tonight?" I asked, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes as he nuzzled and nipped the smooth skin of my thigh. He grinned, resting his chin on my belly. I knew how to get the answer from him without asking, posing the question with gentle exploration and careful analysis of his reactions. But that night, I'd wanted to hear it straight from his mouth.

He stunned me with a searing kiss, and pounced on me.

* * *

_Renji_  
I woke to the feeling of his weight crawling up and settling on my chest. I didn't want to open my eyes- I hadn't slept like that in years. But that hand on my chest and that cheek pressed against mine were hard to ignore. I settled a hand on the top of his head, and opened a lazy eye to look at him.

"Hey, sexy," I purred. His eyes closed against my chest, and he turned inward.

"Must you do that?" I could barely hear him.

"Do what?"

"Give me such embarrassing pet names." I smirked.

"Better than 'hot stuff.' Or I could call you 'sweet potato,'" I teased. He groaned.

I held him in comfortable silence for a while, taking in his scent, feeling the soft play of his fingers over my pectoral muscles, ignoring the sun bleeding through his window.

"Renji," he began quietly, faced turned so that he could look at me. "You must promise to forgive me for what I am about to tell you."

I looked down at him, a question in my eyes.

"Yeah. Promise."


	8. Look Down

We took the morning slowly, knowing that we had a long night ahead of us. I watched with fond eyes as he disappeared into his bathroom, but flinched when I caught the hitch in his normally smooth and level gait. He was limping. I had hurt him. It didn't seem to bother him or, if it did, he didn't bring it up. That didn't matter. I'd have to make it up to him somehow.

Byakuya returned to me after his bath, hair loose and towel dried. He sat across from me at the table, and I filled him a glass of tea.

"What was it you were going to tell me?" I asked. He had, understandably, wanted to get cleaned up beforehand. His index finger ran around the rim of his cup.

His eyes never met mine.

"I rigged your bidding. I inflated the price so that it would have a very slim chance of selling. I'm sorry." God, could he have been any more mechanical? I rested my elbow on my knee and leaned toward him, head propped up on my hand.

"Why?" I couldn't keep the teasing out of my voice. I knew Byakuya well enough to know when he was telling a half-truth. He was fucking with me.

"I wanted to thank you for those nights a few weeks back."

I blinked. Those nights he'd spent ill in bed? Really? I hadn't thought anything of it. It had become second nature for me to take care of the people I liked when they were ill. Hisana had been a much bigger responsibility during her illness. I smirked, taking a sip of my tea.

"You got a weird way of thankin' people, Taichou. Is that how you thank everyone?"

Hopefully my hair would hide the goose egg on my head.

* * *

As the months passed, I realized that our relationship had relaxed. He smiled. He took mercy on me when he could tell that he was pushing me too hard. He joked with me.. kind of. For a geisha, his sense of humor was dry as dirt. At least he was starting to make an effort. Hell, even the other geisha had noticed that he was starting to unwind.

"He must have loosened something else when he was in there," Yumichika drawled out, legs draped over the arm of a chair. Wordlessly, Hitsugaya-Taichou grabbed him by the ankles and shoved him onto the floor.

"Can you quit being so goddamn vulgar?" he scolded loudly.

"Can you think of any other reason tight-ass Senbonzakura would let loose so suddenly? Abarai must have a magic-" Hitsugaya cut him off with a swift kick to the ribs. Hey, maybe he had been onto something there?

"I wouldn't call a smile-"

"He needed to get laid!"

Hitsugaya dropped a shamisen onto Yumichika's prone body. "Entertain yourself with something other than gossip, won't you?"

* * *

Along with my relationship with my mentor seeming to improve, so did my relationship with my clients. Shinji Hirako called us for every party he hosted, particularly if Kenpachi Zaraki was to be in attendance. I was beginning to become very popular among wealthy women. Ukitake-Taichou had been correct- not every client wanted a delicate flower.

Byakuya accompanied me to Mr. Urahara's okiya one evening. That was unlike him. For the most part, I dropped him off and walked home myself.

"What's up?" I asked as we reached the gate. It was late- the lights were out. He looked at me, expression unreadable.

"Shunsui Kyouraku is having an event at his estate. He holds a flower viewing party each year. He has asked me if you would like to go."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind." I liked Kyouraku. He was easy to get along with. I was comfortable around him.

"I will be unable to attend. I have a previous commitment." I blinked. Go without Byakuya? Please, don't let me have to go with Shinsou again.

"Then who?" It was frowned upon for any geisha to entertain alone, and forbidden for a Fukutaichou to do so. "Ukitake-Taichou, I'm assuming?"

"You assume incorrectly." That had been a surprise- Ukitake-Taichou wasn't going to attend his own danna's party? "The prior commitment I mentioned involves him as well. Hyourinmaru will be the Taichou in attendance, but will hardly have the time to hold your hand. You will accompany Sode no Shirayuki."

Really? Rukia? I couldn't hide the excitement from my face. He didn't look nearly as excited.

"You must keep on guard. You have never been given this much freedom."

"What, you don't trust me?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I'll drink tea. I'll dance around. It'll be like every night, except outside. And during the day." Great argument, Renji. He looked unconvinced.

"Pretend I am still there, breathing down your neck. Don't let your guard down, even for a moment." I silenced him with a brush of knuckles against his cheek.

"Relax. Rukia will keep me in line. She's always kept me on a tight leash." I smirked. "Go home. We can talk about this tomorrow. When is this thing?"

"In one week."

"You don't need to get all worked up over it, baby," I whispered, trying to comfort him.

He turned away from me sharply. "I would appreciate it if you did not speak to me in such a manner." I dropped my hand. When was his goddamned charade going to drop? He couldn't keep it going forever.

"Fine, Taichou. I'll see you in the morning.

* * *

"Renji. Renji! Wake up."

It had been a damn long time since Izuru had woken me up. Hell, I hadn't seen him at home in a while. He slept in Gin's room. Shinsou liked to keep his little dove close to his side, it seemed.

"Wha?" I asked groggily. It couldn't have been any later than seven in the morning. Izuru should have known that I was useless before noon.

"Momo's been in the bathroom for a really long time," he whispered to me, settling at my side. I rolled away from him.

"Remember when you ate that okonomiyaki that had been sitting out a little too long?" I asked, snuggling into my pillow.

Izuru went red. "It isn't anything like that! She's crying. I could hear her."

"...Remember when you ate that okonomiyaki that had been sitting out too lo- OW!" I rubbed my head where he smacked me.

"She won't let me in! You have to go in there. She'll listen to you." I rolled toward him, hair sticking up in every direction and the imprint of my pillow on my cheek.

"I'm sure I look totally awe-inspiring," I deadpanned. He ripped my blankets away and pushed.

"Just do it! Gin will want me back in bed soon," he grumbled, blushing a bit.

"I want me back in bed," I muttered, but stood nonetheless. If Momo was shoving Izuru away, it must have been pretty damn serious.

Didn't mean it was worth throwing on a shirt, though.

He had been right. I heard soft sobs coming from the bathroom. I knocked softly on the door. "Momo?" I asked groggily. "I know you're in there."

"Just go away, Renji!" Was that how she'd gotten rid of Izuru? Really? I opened the door with no resistance and closed it behind me. Momo stood against the wall, head in her hands. I walked over slowly, and she reluctantly allowed me to put my hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Did something happen?" She sank into a sitting position.

"It's what didn't happen," she said meekly. I blinked. "I'm always on time. But.. two times now.." She couldn't finish through her tears.

I had to think for a moment. "You were late to meet clients? I didn't think Aizen'd let you. It's him who gets shit for that, not you."

She shook her head. "Not that. I mean.. my body. I.."

"Is this because you overslept?" I asked in disbelief.

"My period!" she cried. My eyes widened in realization.

Oh.

_Oh._

"Fuck, Momo," I hissed. I hadn't heard of a geisha becoming pregnant. Because of my gender, Byakuya had chosen to omit that tidbit from my lessons. It hadn't been anything I had to worry myself with. "What did you do? Or, more importantly, who did you do?" I asked. Her sobs grew in intensity. Shit, I was just making it worse.

I took in a deep breath. "Ok. That doesn't matter. Just.. are you sure? Have you seen a doctor?" She shook her head.

"I thought it was stress the first time. But.. how could it be anything else?" Shit, she was asking the wrong person.

"I want to go to the doctor.. but I don't have any money of my own, and I don't want to alarm Aizen-Taichou if I'm not.." I sighed, and helped her stand.

"C'mon. I got friends."

* * *

I took her to see Ukitake-Taichou. He was experienced and soft-natured. He wouldn't be uncaring, like Byakuya, and unlike Shinsou, he could keep a secret. I knocked on the door, expecting him to be the only one up.

Wrong.

Hitsugaya-Taichou answered the door, tiredly fluffing his hair. "What?" he asked quietly. I looked at Momo, and back at Hitsugaya-Taichou.

"Is Ukitake-Taichou here? It's.. a bit of an emergency."

He looked the two of us over, then opened the door wider. He disappeared off into the okiya, waving for us to follow him.

I'd never seen Hitsugaya-Taichou's bedroom. He kept it private. It was nice, though.. plenty of light shining through the windows and art hanging on the walls. Hitsugaya-Taichou shut the curtains and offered us a seat on the tatami. He plopped down on his bed.

"Ukitake went to breakfast with Kyouraku. Talk. But quietly, Yumichika is sleeping."

I took in a deep breath before looking at Momo, who nodded at me.

"Momo's pregnant. We're not completely sure, but we're pretty sure."

Hitsugaya let out a heavy breath of air. "That is a very serious situation, especially if you aren't sure." He ran fingers through his hair.

"How long ago was your mizuage ceremony, Tobiume?"

"Momo," she corrected softly. "It was four months ago."

He nodded. "It didn't happen then. You would be showing by now. Have you spread your legs for a client?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good." He looked a little more relieved. "Another geisha, then?"

She nodded softly.

"Your Taichou?" It wasn't a question. Her tears confirmed this.

Hitsugaya groaned, rubbing his eyes. I tried to comfort her as well as I could.

"Am I going to be kicked out of my okiya? Do I have to stop being a geisha?" She asked frantically. He quieted her with a raised hand.

"Here is the most likely scenario." At least Hitsugaya went straight to the point. "As soon as you begin to show, you will not be allowed to entertain clients. Your okiya manager will decide if you are worth keeping. I don't see Urahara sending you away. He will make sure that you are taken care of. In exchange for your food, clothing, and medical care during your pregnancy, the baby will be taken by him to either sell to another okiya, or kept for Urahara's own lineup. You will be expected to return to work soon after the birth."

God. No wonder Byakuya never mentioned pregnancy. It was brutal, really. I looked at Momo, trying to read her face. She looked pretty calm.

"Do you know a doctor?" He nodded. "Will you take me to him?" He stood slowly.

"Go home, Abarai-Fukutaichou. I will bring her back promptly."

"But- shouldn't I..?"

Momo shook her head. "Please, no. I don't.." She paused. "It would be easier for me without you there."

I nodded. I didn't understand why, but I would respect her choice. I stood as they walked out the door. Rustling could be heard from the next room. Yumichika. Smirking to myself, I wandered to his room. I was too worried to sleep- at least he'd prove to be an amusing distraction.

* * *

Yumichika and I had spent time talking. About his danna, about our mentors, about what street foods we preferred. How could that heathen choose takoyaki over taiyaki? After a few hours, Yoruichi entered the room without knocking, a somber expression on her face.

"Boys. Get to Urahara's," she stated plainly, leaving no room for conversation as she turned to leave. Yumichika and I looked at each other with questioning eyes and got ready to go.

There was utter silence from outside of the okiya. That was a good sign- Aizen wasn't having one of his world-class temper tantrums. But then.. why would Ms. Yoruichi send Yumichika along with me, even if it was just a domestic scuffle? If anything, Izuru had probably burned the damn eggs. The two of us wandered inside, and I wasn't exactly sure what I had walked in on.

Every damn geisha in the Hanamachi had gathered on the floor of the okiya's social room. Mr. Urahara stood off to the side of the door, leaning against the wall. Gin sat, cigarette in hand while Izuru rested comfortably in his lap. Ukitake-Taichou sat beside Gin, with Kyouraku leaning against his shoulder, half asleep with a burning cigarette between his lips. Momo sat between them, looking no more relaxed than before. Byakuya sat beside Kyouraku, trying to ignore the drifting of the cigarette smoke across his field of vision. Hitsugaya-Taichou was the first to see us, and moved away from his seat at Byakuya's side to allow us into the circle. I sat myself beside my Taichou, and Yumichika filled in the space between me and Hitsugaya-Taichou. I could barely see Aizen, standing off in the corner with his arms crossed, waiting to see the situation unfold and wanting a high vantage point.

"What is the matter, Mr. Urahara?" Ukitake asked, gently stroking Kyouraku's cheek to wake him up. "Surely there is a reason you summoned us all on such short notice?" He was annoyed.

"It seems," Mr. Urahara began, leaning on his cane. "That there has been a little too much indulgence in this okiya," he purred. I saw Ukitake-Taichou's gaze brighten in realization.

"Excuse me?" Aizen asked, stepping forward. "Care to explain what you mean, Urahara?"

Gin laughed around his roll of tobacco, lolling his head onto Izuru's shoulder. "Looks like I'm not the only one who can't keep my hands offa the honey pot." He turned his gaze, eyes closed, to Aizen.

Following Aizen, all eyes fell on Momo. "Is there something you mean to tell me, Momo?" he asked. The anger in his voice wasn't hard to detect. She refused to look at him, gaze dropping.

"So she's pregnant," Byakuya deduced, eyes falling closed. "How unfortunate."

Gin laughed, shoving his cigarette between Izuru's teeth. "Aha! I thought yer boobs were gettin' bigger." He leaned across Izuru's body and slid his hand into Momo's yukata and grabbed a breast, earning a shocked gasp in response. He wiped his hand off on Izuru's hakama as he took his cigarette back.

"Shinsou, be respectful," Byakuya said sternly. "This is a very delicate situation."

"Ahhhh..." Yumichika grinned in realization. Aizen stepped closer to his protege.

"My dear little Momo.. is this true?" he asked, voice sickly sweet as he stroked her hair. She nodded, and he gathered her into his arms, able to hide his scowl from her, but not from me.

"Doesn't she have options?" I asked. "I mean, she doesn't have to keep it, does she?"

Ukitake-Taichou looked at me with hard eyes. "This is a lesson that a geisha cannot ignore, Renji. She may not simply undergo an abortion and cleanse herself. She has to face the consequences of her promiscuity."

I had never felt such a sharp bite in Ukitake's words. Kyouraku leaned in close, whispering something into his ear that seemed to calm him down.

"You're bitter." Aizen looked at Ukitake. "Precious Sougyo no Kotowari can't stand seeing others happy while he lives a life of might-have-beens," he spat, releasing Momo and storming up to Ukitake and Kyoraku. The couple paid him no mind, with Ukitake sliding a delicate hand over Shunsui's on the mat. Aizen lifted the leg of his hakama only a few inches before stomping his bare foot on the pair's fingers. Ukitake recoiled with a gasp, holding his quickly swelling hand to his chest.

Before I had the time to respond, Yumichika was up and the knife he kept strapped to his thigh was in his hand, the back of the blade resting against Aizen's throat. I knew him to carry a knife- it was at his danna's insistence. Yumichika was a male, vulgar as the rest of them. However, with his seductive gaze and soft touch, paired with the flowing silk he wore, he could easily be mistaken for a woman. Ikkaku had wanted to arm him, to give him a chance should he be attacked.

It seemed as if Yumichika knew how to wield it.

"Try it again," he dared darkly. Aizen held his hands up. Momo covered her mouth, new tears falling. Gin's brow raised in amusement.

"So much tension. Can't bare ta look at it," he drawled, one eye open against Izuru's pale neck.

"Stand down, Yumichika," Hitsugaya roared. As soon as Yumichika pulled his knife away, Aizen pushed past him with his shoulder. Yumichika grabbed him by the arm and turned him sharply, jerking his head back by his hair, the tip of the knife under his jaw.

"Woah!" I yelled out.

"Boys!" Ukitake cried.

Byakuya stood, rage in his eyes. "Enough of this," he snarled, smacking the tatami to get attention. "You are geisha, not wolves. Present yourself as such or you shame everything you stand for." His words were harsh. Yumichika released Aizen's hair and sheathed his knife, sitting beside Hitsugaya and ignoring the smack delivered to the back of his head. Aizen took a place beside Momo, allowing her to hide her face in his chest.

Urahara leaned against the wall, fanning himself idly. "I guess it's settled, then. Tobiume will go on hiatus while she is pregnant. Then I will take the child as payment," he said with a shrug. It made me sick, how he thought of human lives as no more than bank notes. He passed by Aizen, sliding his hand down his ear.

"You'd best work hard and support your baby mama."

Only seconds after Urahara left, Aizen followed. I could hear the breaking of glass, and watched helplessly as Momo ran off into the bedroom we had once shared. Hitsugaya went after her. Had they bonded? He didn't seem to want her to be alone.

Gin ran his fingers through Izuru's hair. "I've always wanted a baby, y'know."

"You'd be a terrible father," I deadpanned, trying to lighten the mood and slow my racing heart.

"It's true," Izuru laughed, plucking the Lucky Strike out of Gin's fingers and taking the last drag.

With the elephant out of the room, everybody seemed to relax. Kyouraku inspected Ukitake's injured hand, and soothed it with a kiss and a rub. He turned to Byakuya, who looked more than ready to leave.

"So, Senbonzakura. Have you asked little Renji if he wants to come to my seasonal party?" Kyouraku asked, a grin on his face. "I think my Nanao might like him. She's always so jealous of the pretty girls and.. whatever the hell Yumichika is." Yumichika turned toward him.

Byakuya nodded. "It has been discussed."

"Oh? What was the answer?" He wasn't asking Byakuya. He was asking me.

"I'd like to go,"I said reluctantly, looking at Byakuya. "If it's alright."

"Of course!" Kyouraku waved. Byakuya settled back. I knew the face he was giving. He was getting grumpy. "I'll see you all there, then. Not much time to prepare," he warned with a grin. The room cleared one by one, until only Byakuya kept me company.

He was quiet.

"Why don't you want me to go?" I asked, rubbing the back of my head. "It's what we've been working for, right? For me to start flying on my own? And you said I wouldn't be alone. Hitsugaya-Taichou-"

"-Will be employed by another client at the event, and thus unable to give you an input. Renji, you haven't done anything like this before."

"Do you trust me?" I asked plainly. It was a yes or no question. Of course he wasn't going to give a straight answer. That'd be too fucking simple.

"You are only sixteen, Renji. I had my first solo client when I was closer to eighteen. I am worried."

I reached out, running my fingers along his jawline and down his throat. "Don't worry, baby." I gave a grin despite his scowl. God, his sensibilities were so damn delicate. "I'll be good."

He looked at me with a stare hard enough to freeze fire.

"Be great."


	9. Irreplaceable

Author's Note: Hey guys! 8)

I've finally caught up to what I'd written- so that's why chapters are taking a little longer to pop up.

I'm thankful for all of the follows nice reviews I've received! I love seeing the notifications pop up in my email! 8)

* * *

The morning before Kyouraku's party, I felt nerves creep up on me. I was starting to realize how stupid it was for me to run off without Byakuya, considering how much I relied on his presence. He fed me constantly, supplying subtle cues and gracefully covering all of my minor faux-pas. I was only a toddler, able to take only a few steps without him keeping a grip on my hand.

"I'm such an idiot," I breathed out, falling back onto the tatami. Rukia laughed.

"We knew that. What made you realize it this time?" she asked, stashing her futon into the cupboard. It was just past eleven- the okiya was beginning to stir.

I shrugged, throwing my arm over my eyes. "I can't back out now. It'll give him too much satisfaction," I grumbled.

"Not to mention that the client would be pissed?" she suggested, flopping down beside me. I waved my hand in the air.

"Eh. It's Kyouraku." He was still a client, sure.. but he was also Shunsui Kyouraku. It was really hard to see him as a client, especially considering how often I'd heard him in the throes of passion. Augh.

"I don't even get why they're not going," I said, pulling myself into a sitting position. She looked at me like I was idiot.

Alright, what was it that time?

"Senbonzakura is being granted his second release." She kept going, having expected my dumbfounded expression. "It's all technical. He's just a ceremony marking his experience. It's because his first Fukutaichou's of-age now, that's all. He just gets to wear less makeup and a less fancy kimono." I smirked. Byakuya wasn't going to change how he dressed. He was too vain, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"You need to get him a present," she said, sitting down beside me. I blinked.

"Uh, why?"

"Because he's your Taichou and this is kind of a big deal," she groaned. "God, you're so inconsiderate."

I pointed at her dramatically. "Pot calling the kettle black!" I cried. She reached out to smack me, but for once in my life, I was able to dodge it.

Rukia rose to her feet and reached a hand out. "Come on. We'll go to the market. I can't let you loose, you'll end up spending all of your money on food," she grumbled. I stood unassisted, not trusting her to not pull any fancy footwork, which usually ended with her foot in a particularly sensitive area.

"That was once," I muttered under my breath. "Fine. Let's go."

Oops, not so fast.

With a gentle knock, Ukitake-Taichou opened the door to Rukia's bedroom. She greeted him with a bow, and I took a knee by the door. He approached her with a smile on his lips, brighter than the morning sun. What had him in such a good mood?

"My dear Rukia, I have news for you." He sounded elated. "Renji, would you mind excusing us for just a moment?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I was on my way out." No big deal. I'd just have Yumichika walk with me. It was Friday. He usually went out anyway, and the fact that Ikkaku had spent the night would make him particularly complacent.

Yumichika didn't walk. He sauntered. His hips swayed sensually with each step, the ends of his obi brushing his backside. It was fucking distracting. He always had to be the center of attention, dressing in a yukata and carrying a parasol despite the gentle spring sun. Hell, I had been lucky to remember to wear pants.

"Aaah, Renji. This is pretty," Yumichika purred, holding up the sleeve of a kimono. I paled. It was covered in peacocks. Not really Byakuya's scene. Pretending to entertain Yumichika, Ikkaku looked at the price tag.

"This thing is worth more than you," Ikkaku scolded. Yumichika flipped his hair.

"Impossible."

We browsed for a moment before Yumichika picked up a jade comb. "What about this?" he asked, running his fingers along the teeth. I shrugged.

"It's okay, I guess. Not really his style."

Yumichika huffed and put it down. "If your fashion sense is so acute, you pick something." He turned to Ikkaku. "He asks for me to escort him and then pays me no mind. It's like I'm invisible," he whined, placing his hands on Ikkaku's chest and pouting up at him. Ikkaku rubbed the back of his head.

"Your taste is kinda weird, Yumi."

"And your head is kinda bald," he retorted without missing a beat.

"That was just hurtful!"

I ignored the lover's spat as I looked around the shop. There had to be something decent.. that fell into my price range. I clicked my tongue, pacing the floor..

Aha!

Gingerly, I scooped up some kind of hair decoration. "Hey, Yumichika! What're these?" I asked, holding them up.

"Ugly!" Yumichika snapped, not even bothering to look. Ikkaku, however, interrupted their quarrel to walk over, appraising the strange clips in my hand.

"Oi, Yumi," he said shortly, taking them from me. "Are these what I think they are?"

Yumichika glanced over.. and had to do a double-take.

"You're kidding me," he whispered, practically running to where we stood. He ran his fingers along the peaks of the clips, then under the hook that anchored them to the hair.

"Get these." Was I being given a choice?

"Are you gonna tell me what they are?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

"Kenseikan," Ikkaku stated.

"They represent beauty, serenity, and wisdom. He will be more than flattered to receive such a thought-out gift," Yumichika gushed.

"It's really bad form to buy them for yourself. They have to be given as a gift," Ikkaku explained.

Alright. So. I'd fall into Byakuya's good graces if I bought them? Well, shit. What was I waiting for? I turned the price tag around.

Oh.

We walked out of the store, only dust in my pocket. Yumichika and Ikkaku had better have been right. I expected Byakuya to do a backflip, and would hold Yumichika personally responsible should my Taichou regard his wildly expensive gift with apathy.

* * *

I didn't want to give him his gift. Not yet. I wanted it to mean something. I couldn't just throw a present in his face and call it a night. Because he always had such perfect timing, he was very aware of my shortcomings in that area.. I wanted to be the one to surprise him, even if it was just once. Hell, he hadn't even told me why he wouldn't be with me at Kyouraku's party. Surely he'd think it thoughtful if I took the initiative to find out?

I slept fitfully that night. I was expected to awaken at a time usually reserved for heading to bed, not rolling out of it. Thankfully, I'd been granted a bed beside Hyourinmaru for the night- I didn't think I would be able to stand the loneliness of my own bedroom. With her pregnancy and the role Aizen had played in it, Mr. Urahara had insisted that Momo sleep at Aizen's side. With Izuru basically attached to Gin at the hip, that left me with a bedroom to myself. It felt unnatural, and reminded me of those days long ago, before the kind Hisana welcomed me into her home.

I couldn't sleep alone.

Ichigo woke me with the heel of his foot digging into my ribs. I slapped him away as best I could in my sleep-disoriented state. I hadn't been given time to open my eyes before Ichigo had a brush in my hair and a makeup brush in my hand. I'd have to remember how cruel he'd been- I was sure that I could deal damage somehow.. I was just too tired to think of anything.

"What'm I wearing?" I grumbled, standing up so that he could dress me. "One of Shinsou's? Or one'a Senbonzakura's?" I was just a Fukutaichou. None of the kimono I wore belonged to me. They belonged to my mentors, usually Byakuya. However, I had been known to borrow clothing from Shinsou or Kyouka Suigetsu. They usually wore darker, more muted colors with less flowery shit on them. Not that I had anything against flowers- but the pink clashed with my hair.

"One of yours."

Wait. Hold up.

I looked down in surprise. Ichigo pulled a kimono from a black lacquered box. Was I breathing? I didn't think I was breathing. The silk was a vibrant black, the hem decorated with red swirls and gold thread that blazed up to the waist and sleeves like fire. The obi was red and white, tied with a gold rope. It was gorgeous.

And it was mine?

A shadow fell upon the door and it was opened slowly. I paid no mind. I was too busy gawking at myself. I'd never worn a new kimono. It was a little stiff, but it would soften quickly. The silk was high quality.

"I see you're pleased with it."

I turned toward the voice. Byakuya.

"Taichou," I greeted, bowing as low as I could with the unforgiving obi. "It's.. awesome. I dunno what to say."

He smiled. "You don't need to say anything, Renji." It hadn't been a wisecrack like I had expected. He approached me slowly and reached out, gently smoothing the fabric across my chest and adjusting any bunching. He paused with both hands on my chest. I hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

It was then I realized how much I'd grown. Not just physically, though I did top him by a few inches. Without him, where would I be? Would I have the discipline to sit through a full day of Yumichika's arrogance without ripping out his spine and beating him with it? Would I have had the patience to find Rukia? Or would I be the insolent brat who had stolen food from Hisana, or broke his window?

I felt his breath hitch as I brought my face close to his. Our gaze was locked as I pressed our noses together. We didn't kiss. I tasted his breath on my tongue, felt his hips rise into my touch, the gentle curling of his fingers against the warmth of my chest. Was the singing of my heartbeat was deafening him, too? It must have been, as he stepped just out of my hold.

"You have work to do," he told me, trying to keep his tone neutral. He turned to leave, but I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait. I got something for you, too." He turned toward me. I scrambled to the cupboard on Hyourinmaru's wall as quickly as I could, sliding the door open and grabbing the bag I had stashed there the night before. I handed it to him unceremoniously, unfitting for the precious object inside. He opened it cautiously, expression blank as he lifted the contents into the open air. After a moment, he looked at me with unshed tears in his eyes

Shit.

Fuck.

I was going to kill Yumichika.

No. Worse. I was going to shave his head.

"I'm sorry, I didn-! It was Yumi-! I didn't mean to offend you," I defended, panic in my voice. HE cut me off with the raising of his hand.

"Quiet." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand as quickly as he could so that it wasn't obvious. "It's.. they're beautiful," he said simply. I took him to the mirror and knelt beside him, taking the kenseikan and gently clipping them into his hair. I was thankful that I had spent time toying with the clasps, otherwise I would have just sat there and hit him in the head with them until they somehow anchored themselves.

I played with the thick hair at the back of his head while he admired himself. He was a vain little shit, and it was one of the things I found endearing about him.

"You're going to be late," he said, turning toward me. I shrugged.

"It happens."

"No, it doesn't," he scolded, putting a hand on my back to urge me to my feet. "Go. I will see you tomorrow," he promised, standing.

I grinned. He was embarrassed, wasn't he? Fine. I'd pay him a visit as soon as I got back.

* * *

Five of us packed into the carriage. Yumichika sat beside me, wanting the extra space to sprawl out. Rukia sat across from me, hardly able to keep her eyes open. I felt for her. I was only awake because I couldn't tune out the constant back-and-forth between Ichigo and Yumichika, with Hitsugaya-Taichou snapping in the occasional quip.

Mr. Kyouraku didn't live in a house. There was no way that was a house. It looked more like a small town to me, with several small buildings surrounding the larger estate. We were dropped off near one of the side buildings, a huge garden sprawled out in the center of the property. Byakuya would have been so fucking jealous.

"Hey! Over here!" We turned to the voice. Mr. Kyouraku stood with Mr. Kurosaki, waving to us with enthusiasm. They were both dressed to the nines, though Mr. Kyouraku still wore that damn straw hat.

"Son! I didn't think you'd be coming!" Mr. Kurosaki said jovially. I looked around and caught the blush on Ichigo's face. Wait, they were related?

That explained a lot.

Wait. I paled. I had given one of those damned red lacquered boxes to Mr. Kurosaki. There was no way that Byakuya hadn't been aware of the familial ties between Ichigo and Mr. Kurosaki. Hell, I should have figured them out sooner.

I had offered my virginity to Ichigo's father.

Was it too late to claim motion sickness?

"Someone's gotta keep these asses in line," Ichigo grumbled, gesturing to us. It was true. By the looks of the place, we'd get lost in no time.

It was then, before we found our footing, we were split into pairs. Hyourinmaru and Ruri'iro Kujaku escorted Mr. Kurosaki off into the rest of the party, where Rukia and I stood awkwardly at Kyouraku's side. I looked to her to see what we were supposed to do. She was looking at me with the exact same expression.

Fuck.

"Ah, here we are!" Shunsui cried, stopping us near a very pretty young woman engrossed in conversation with several of her friends. Her kimono was probably just as pretty as Rukia's, the purple silk covered in little birds in flight. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, blue eyes hidden behind round-framed glasses.

"My little Nanao~," he purred. That was his wife? Goddamn. He settled his hands on her waist and snuggled his nose into her neck. She decked him.

Okay, I hadn't been expecting that.

"Oh, come on," he urged, standing and checking to make sure his nose wasn't bleeding. "It's a party! Lighten up, little miss."

Her expression grew dark as she excused herself from her little group of friends. "I will do no such thing," she grumbled through gritted teeth. "Not while he's he- oh." She had pointed at me.

I was honestly going to accept it, despite having never met the woman. It was always me.

"Where's-?" she began, looking around the immediate area. Kyouraku soothed her with a finger to the lips.

"Sougyo no Kotowari will not be in attendance. In his stead, he has sent his pretty little Fukutaichou, Sode no Shirayuki." She seemed pleased by that, and looked at me inquisitively.

"That one I just thought was cute. Isn't he unique?"

She looked me over. "He's something."

Hey, what was that supposed to mean?

"That's Zabimaru. You remember Senbonzakura? The one with the cherry blossom makeup?" he asked. She nodded. "Zabimaru is his partner." She seemed to understand.

"I do have to wonder why he didn't come," she stated, adjusting her kimono and allowing Kyouraku to put an arm around her shoulders. "The children will be so disappointed."

"He has more love for you than you will open your eyes to," Kyouraku stated, poking her nose. She leaned back against him.

"Go make sure everyone's havin' a good time," he told us. It was clear that he wanted some time alone with his wife.

So we wandered until the sun grew hot.

We served tea. We conversed with partygoers who seemed to feel out of place. We retrieved tea and snacks. We watched while Hyourinmaru and Ruri'iro Kujaku sang and played instruments.

"I feel like a servant," I grumbled to Rukia, walking around the garden to locate a servant girl with a teapot. She poked me in the ribs.

"At least we haven't embarrassed ourselves yet," she countered, finding a teapot and grabbing it off of the tray, much to the servant's protest.

"There's always time for that," I muttered, walking her back to the waiting client. Speak of the devil.

"Dr. Kurotsuchi," Rukia greeted with a bow, offering to fill his glass. He placed it out for her.

"It's good to see such pretty Fukutaichou," he purred. "And all alone, too! No one here to hold your hand?" he asked, fingers brushing Rukia's arm. That had made my skin crawl. I didn't see how Rukia resisted the urge to vomit.

"No, sir. We are each other's chaperone." His eyes lit up.

"Why don't you two play us a little song? Do us a little dance?" he asked turning to Kyouraku. "That would be alright, wouldn't it? Let the fledglings test their wings?"

Shunsui grinned. "By all means. Sode no Shirayuki? Zabimaru?" He gestured to a little gazebo at the side of the lake in the center of the hugely expansive garden. Rukia and I looked at each other as we were ushered into said gazebo, dozens of partygoers crowding around to watch the pretty geisha pair dance around.

Or rather, watch me dance.

Rukia knelt toward the back of the structure. I saw what she was doing. She was going to sing. At least that took more effort than hiding behind me and plucking out a few notes on the shamisen.

I let her start us off, falling easily into a dance I had been taught by Byakuya. While Yumichika had been my tutor, Byakuya was my teacher. He filled my repertoire. Hopefully I would do him proud.

By the applause from the crowd, I could tell that, at the very least, I hadn't done anything that would justify him burying his head in the sand and disowning me, in that order.

"Very good," Kyouraku praised. I could see Rukia grinning as she stood and took my side.

"Isn't Sode no Shirayuki's voice pretty?" Nanao asked a young boy, smoothing his hair out of his face. One of her children, maybe?

"She's pretty everywhere," the boy responded. I laughed at the blush creeping across Rukia's cheeks. I pat her back.

"Looks like you got a little admirer," I teased. She laughed.

"Too bad I am already taken."

Wait.

Wait, what?

I opened my mouth to speak, brows drawn up in confusion. I was going to ask her what the fuck she had meant by that, but was cut off by gentle tugging on my sleeve. I looked down, greeted by the sight of a toddler. There was no doubt in my mind that Shunsui Kyouraku had been responsible for her production. Her hair was uncontrollable, despite the attempts to pull it back.

"Bunny?" she asked quietly, talking around the thumb in her mouth. I blinked and looked at Rukia. She was a woman. She should know how to understand kids, right? She shrugged. Fuck. I should have remembered that it was Rukia, not any normal woman.

I had never been more grateful that she couldn't read my mind.

The child looked at her father, and tugged my sleeve harder. "Where Bunny?" she asked. Kyouraku laughed and took her other hand.

"Bunny's at another party, Kumiko. He promised he'd come see you soon, okay?" The child looked close to tears. Fuck. She was going to cry, and with my luck, everyone would blame me. Shit.

"Candy?" she asked, heartbroken. I could see Rukia damn near die.

"Jushiro always brings her candy. Enough to last a year," Kyouraku joked.

Wait, that was all she wanted?

I pulled a little bag of kompaito out of the bag I had stashed in my kimono and handed it over. Hey, even I had to snack. "Here you go," I said reluctantly, probably not comforting her at all.

The little girl beamed and wrapped her tiny arms around my legs. Uh, cute? I looked around for Rukia, but she was gone. That witch must have seen my distraction as a chance to escape her earlier comments. Of course.

"All that commotion over me? I'm so flattered, my little Kumiko." I whipped my head around to face the voice. Sure enough, Ukitake-Taichou approached, dressed in a blue and white shitage and hakama combination. The haori he wore swallowed him whole. God, it was weird to see him out of uniform. He crouched down and opened his arms for the little girl, who immediately forgot all about me and ran to him. He laughed as she tackled him, and lifted her high into the air.

"Bunny!" she cried, snuggling into his chest. Ukitake smiled against her hair, reaching into his sleeve while holding her steady.

"You didn't think I forgot you, did you?" he asked, fishing out a plush rabbit and handing it to her. She squealed and held it tight. "Now, even when I'm far away, you can remember me."

"Mm, got one in there for me?" Kyouraku asked, sliding his hands up Ukitake's waist. I could see him arch into the touch, smile warming in the setting sun.

"Baby," he reminded gently, bouncing Kumiko and her new toy.

"Just in time for the ending of the party. I thought you weren't coming," Kyoukaru said, letting Ukitake put Kumiko down before he pulled him into a casual embrace. The child ran to her mother, showing off her rabbit. Nanao had to paint a smile onto her face. Oooh, she was pissed.

"The ceremony was abbreviated. I hope you'll excuse my informal dress."

"Would you call the sea plain, then?"

And there was my cue to leave. They were getting schmoopy, and I really didn't want to have to deal with that.

I looked around the landscape. Where the hell would she have run off to? My eyes caught a path lined in sakura trees. Aha. I made a silent bet with myself as I walked over, sandals heavy on my feet. God, I wanted to just kick them off and be done with them.

"Rukia?" I asked, looking behind a tree.

And I would be awarding exactly three pieced of taiyaki to myself, thank you very much.

"How did you find me so quickly?" she grumped. I laughed.

"Since Hisana died, you've been attracted to sakura trees. Me too." Okay, that had been way more depressing than I had meant. I crossed my arms, standing directly in front of her. "What did you mean, you're already taken?" I demanded.

She looked down. "You can't get mad. Promise me you won't get mad." I eyed her suspiciously.

"Nuh-uh. Not until you tell me what it is," I said, stepping closer to tower over her. She pushed me back. Real effective, Renji.

"You have to promise, or I'm not going to tell you." She was in my face that time. I put my hands up in surrender.

"Fine, whatever! I won't freak out. Promise."

She took in a deep breath, slow and careful. "I have a danna. Kaien Shiba. It becomes official next week. He.. he's getting me my own apartment." She smiled widely. I paused, dumbfounded.

"Are you kidding?" I roared. She shrunk back. I picked her up easily, arms wrapped tightly around her tiny body.

"Renji!" she called out.

"That's AWESOME!" I yelled, unable to resist bouncing up and down. She laughed, hands supporting some of her weight on my shoulders.

"God, that's great," I said with a grin, setting her back down on the earth. She hid her face in my chest, and I bent over to hold her.

"Do you think Hisana would be happy?" she asked quietly. I nodded.

"Are you kidding? She'd treat it like you were getting married," I said with a laugh. She smiled, wiping the tears that had started to sting the corners of her eyes.

"I think she'd be proud of both of us. Especially you, Renji. Senbonzakura has done so much for you. You're really special to him, you know." I grinned.

Rukia had seen me at my lowest, scrounging for food and breaking into a house for the promise of my next meal. She saw me now at my highest, a popular Fukutaichou under one of the most famous geisha in the country. She supported me through it all, treating me as her brother. She had been my motivation through all of it.

I bent down, pressing the slightest, most innocent kiss to her lips.

I realized as I pulled away that the silent figure waiting in the rain of petals wouldn't see it as such.


End file.
